


Ain't No Grave

by Jassy



Series: Grave [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Girl!Eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-12 05:43:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 65,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17461706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jassy/pseuds/Jassy
Summary: 18 year old Guinevere 'Eggsy' Unwin is in a bad way. Fearing for her and her mother's life, she makes what she thinks is her last call, and everything changes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't recall when I have ever posted an in progress fic before. I am honestly not sure how long this one will get. Title comes from a random song that I really enjoyed on spotify. I wasn't even sure what Southern Gothic music was, but apparently I really like it, so. Boom, fic title.

Eggsy dialed the cheap pay as you go cell phone with hands that shook so hard that she nearly dropped both it and the medal. A woman’s voice spoke on the other end, though Eggsy was too out of it to understand what she was saying. “I’m Eggsy Unwin. Guinevere. I think – I think I’m dying,” she whispered. A fresh stab of pain made her writhe for a few seconds. Panting, she continued, “The man said we could have a favor. I need someone to look after my mum, yeah? Get her away from Dean and his drugs. She won’t last too long without me.” Eggsy paused to choke down the sobs that wanted out. It would only hurt her more if she allowed them. A dim memory sparked and she finished, “Oxfords not brogues. Just help her. Please.” The phone fell from her fingers and she curled up, shivering against the cold, head swimming with the fever. The stab wound in her side was a constant flare of burning agony. The empty warehouse didn’t provide much protection against the cold winter air, nor did the thin hoodie that was all she had for a coat. Fuck Dean anyway. And all his fucking little dogs, barking around him and kissing his arse.

She knew the wound was infected. But she also knew that Dean had his dogs watching for her at all the clinics and A&E’s that she could realistically get to. By the time she decided to try to risk it, she was too sick to actually move. On a last gasp of mental clarity, she made the call that would hopefully save her mother’s life. It was almost a relief to be done, really. It didn’t matter so much that she was dying in a filthy, abandoned warehouse. At least she could stop running, stop walking that razor thin line between trying to keep her mother from overdosing or being beaten to death by her piece of shit husband and keeping herself out of reach of either his fists or his ‘clients’ that wanted more than just drugs from her. She was just so tired of it all. 18 years old and she felt like she’d lived a hundred.

The last of her clarity slipped away from her as the pain surged once again and she gratefully let darkness pull her under.

~

Harry slid his glasses on his face as he pulled the Kingsman cab to a stop outside the dingy, falling apart warehouse. “Merlin, you there?”

“Aye, Harry. We have an update from the retrieval team. Michelle Baker has been found. She was in a bad way herself and is being taken to a medical facility for treatment. The initial assessment from the team indicates long term drug use combined with physical abuse, more than likely from the second husband. I’ve had a chance to look into Guinevere as well. Her school records stop three years ago, but until then, she was doing brilliantly. Testing indicates genius level IQ. She competed in gymnastics as well, but that also stopped at around the same time. Her arrest records show a lot of petty crime, shoplifting, pickpocketing, and some minor drug possession charges. Her medical records show a lot worse. She’s been hospitalized more than once with broken bones and concussions. It would seem,” Merlin finished, “that Michelle Unwin, now Baker, managed to find herself the complete opposite of Lee and either didn’t or couldn’t shield her young daughter from the fallout.”

“Wonderful. And the call traced to this luxurious locale.”

“We kept the line open until, apparently, the pre-paid minutes ran out. There is an unpleasant rattle in the young woman’s breathing,” Merlin warned him. “You may need to get her to an A&E quickly.”

Harry nodded acknowledgement. He kept an eye out as he made his way into the building. The last thing he felt like dealing with was a mugging. Inside, there was next to no light. The infrared feature of his glasses picked out a prone figure, though the heat signature indicated an elevated core temperature, lying in the far corner way from the doors. Harry crossed to it swiftly. When he was about twenty feet away, he was able to hear a wet, rasping breathing. He reached the figure and knelt next to her for a quick assessment. He had no doubt it was Guinevere Unwin. He remembered the heart shaped face of the little girl he’d given the medal to quite well. Eleven years had made her taller, plumped her lips into something rather sensuous, but it hadn’t changed the shape of her face nor the dimple in her chin. The medal in her hand and the phone on the floor beside her helped as well. He slipped both items into his pocket automatically as he began to examine her.

She wore dirty, stained jeans, tattered trainers on her feet, and just a thin sweatshirt with the hood pulled uselessly over her head. She didn’t even have a pair of gloves on. Her skin was hot and dry to the touch, except where her fingers were chilled to ice. Quite ill, then, and based on the sound of her breathing, possibly with pneumonia. With medical attention, at her age, it shouldn’t be a problem. Harry had no doubt that if she stayed where she was, her frightened prediction on the phone would come true.

Without a thought, he removed his woolen peacoat and went to wrap it around her. When he lifted her torso to get it around her shoulders, she let out a thin, high shriek of agony.

“Jesus, Harry, what the fuck?” Merlin hissed in his ear.

Harry didn’t bother to answer. He finished wrapping the coat around her shoulders, then lay her back down. As efficiently but as gently as he could, he peeled her up her sweatshirt and the grimy tee shirt that she had on beneath it. A filthy, blood-soaked wad of paper towels was stuck to her stomach. He peeled it away and cursed in harmony to the swearing in his ear as he and Merlin observed the swollen, bleeding knife wound that lay beneath. He pulled out his pocket square and pressed it firmly against the wound. He then removed his belt one handed and fastened it tightly around her middle to hold the silk in place. It wasn’t much of a bandage, but it would help slow the bleeding and was at least cleaner than what she had been using. As he tightened the belt, Eggsy gasped and gripped his arm with both hands, fingers nearly claws as they dug into him. “Easy,” he soothed. “Relax, my dear. I’m going to get you to a hospital-“

“No!” Eyes wild, she used her grip on his arm to pull herself upright. “No hospitals, they’ll _find_ me! Just leave me here.”

“I won’t do that. Who will find you, Eggsy? Tell me who’s looking for you,” Harry ordered.

Her gaze was unfocused, and her grip weakening. He got his arm under her back just in time for her grip to slack. “Just go,” she whispered. “You’re supposed to save mum, not me. Go, please just go,” she begged.

“I do apologize, my dear, but I simply cannot do that. Your mother, however, is safe. You both are,” he promised. But her eyes were rolling back into her head as he spoke, so he doubted anything of his reassurances really registered.

“You better bring her here, Harry. Until we find out who ‘they’ are, I’d rather she not be on anyone’s radar,” Merlin ordered. “In her condition, she’s hardly likely to remember anything anyway.”

“Just what I was thinking,” Harry approved. She whimpered when he picked her up, but didn’t wake again.

The drive to the shop was made to the soundtrack of her wet, raspy breathing with the occasional cough and whimper combo to spice it up. Leodegrance met him outside the shop and helped him carry her inside before they could be noticed, though as late as it was, the risk of that was rather low. Inside, a stretcher was already waiting, and the door to fitting room standing open. The bullet train had never seemed so slow than it did that night. Harry found himself compulsively smoothing her rather filthy hair over and over, murmuring soothing nonsense to her every time a cough brought her pain, which was frequently.

Merlin was there to meet them when the train arrived. He started his exam as they walked swiftly through the facility towards medical, managing to get blood pressure, temperature, and a solid listen to her chest by the time they arrived. A nurse summarily shoved Harry out of the way and took over, pushing Eggsy into a room with Merlin already barking orders.

Unperturbed, he left them to it. When Merlin was done treating her, he would get his update. In the meantime, he made his way down to ops and snagged one of the techs. “Hello, Gina. Do you have time to do me a little favor?”

Gina flashed her dimples at him. “For you, Galahad, always! What do you have?”

“A phone. I would like you to pull everything you can from it.” He pulled the cheap thing out of his pocket, and they both regarded it a bit skeptically. “Well, whatever you’re able to pull from it. Any photos, videos, and location data would all be helpful. Send the information to my laptop when you’ve got it. I’m going to speak with the mother, see if she’s coherent enough to tell me anything.”

“I’ll get right to it,” Gina assured him.

“Thank you.”

When he stepped out of ops, he found James headed down the hall towards him. “James, I thought you were on leave?”

“I was. Merlin called me, mentioned your little rescue project. Tell me, was he exaggerating, or is Lee’s daughter truly homeless and at death’s door?” James questioned.

Harry wobbled his hand back and forth. “Her appearance suggests she’s been living on the streets for at least a short time, though it can’t have been terribly long without proper shelter or she would have succumbed to hypothermia some time ago. She does have an infected stab wound, compounded by what sounded like a dreadful case of pneumonia.”

James made a face. “How on earth did she get into such a state? To hear Lee speak of her, Michelle was always mother of the year, and his daughter a veritable genius.”

“Hmm, well, quite a bit has changed, I think. From what Merlin was able to dig up, Michelle became involved with, and married, an abusive man. She has been taken in for treatment for both drug abuse and physical injuries that look like spousal abuse. Eggsy’s records show a history over the last few years of frequent injuries with her petty crime. She woke briefly while I was checking her over and refused to go to a hospital. Said something about ‘they’ll find her’.” He shrugged. “It’s difficult to say who ‘they’ might be, if indeed ‘they’ are real at all, and not just a product of the fever.”

“I’d like to offer my assistance,” James said. “Lee saved my life as well and it simply doesn’t sit right to do nothing while his daughter and wife suffer. Let me speak to the wife, see what she knows.”

“Thank you, James. That would be helpful. If Michelle should remember me – and it’s difficult to say if she would or not, considering the drugs – she would likely be less than helpful.” Harry clasped his shoulder. “Charm her socks off, old boy. You’re quite good at that, or so you keep telling us.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I am going to find Dean Baker. Whether he had anything to do with Eggsy’s current state or not, we know he’s hospitalized her and her mother several times over the last three years. Oddly enough, I find I rather object to that.”

James looked put out. “Well. If you feel you _must_ do that alone and hog all the fun, I suppose I can’t stop you.”

“Cheer up, old boy. If he should prove difficult, I promise to save a bit for you.” Harry clapped him on the shoulder to speed him on his way.

His first stop was Michelle’s flat. Harry was well aware of how he stood out in his suit, without even an overcoat to somewhat hide the quality. It was, however, quite late, and the cold weather helped assure a lack of an audience as he quietly picked the pathetic excuse of a lock. The flat inside was in a dreadful state. It reeked of old rubbish, with empty and partially empty take away containers strewn about. Every surface was littered with cups and empty alcohol bottles, with overflowing ashtrays adding to the disgusting mix. The place was currently empty, so he felt no qualms about turning on the lights for a thorough exam of the place. In a corner near the front door, he found traces of blood, long dried. When he moved to the bedroom, he curled his lip at the state of the bed, and shook his head when he found evidence of drug paraphernalia.

The second bedroom was somewhat cleaner. The bed had been at lease loosely made, there was no trash laying about, and an effort had been made to keep the clothing – mostly jeans and tee shirts and hooded sweatshirts similar to what he had seen Eggsy in. All were worn, likely second hand. The jeans were likely of a size for her, but the tops would all be rather baggy on her, hiding her shape. He didn’t spot any of the tight, revealing clothing popular with young ladies of her age. It could mean something or it could mean nothing, but he filed the observation away all the same.

The bathroom was in an equal state of horrifying as the majority of the rest of the flat. It also held a large quantity of first aid supplies and heavy concealer makeup.

Nowhere did he find evidence of where Dean Baker was likely to be. Feeling like he could really use a hot shower, Harry turned off the lights and left the flat. In the car, he pulled out his phone to access the police database. Baker had quite a long record of arrests, though few convictions. A bit of investigation into the details showed that, for each of the more serious charges, someone else had come forward with a confession. The minor charges tended to stick, but he had seen little time in prison for them. There was also a long list of domestic complaints, but in each case both Michelle and Eggsy had declined to give statements, so there had been little the police could do. Various notes in his files listed several known associates with which he might be staying, and Harry began making a list of whom to visit first.

Luck, however, was on his side. As he packed his phone away, a sports car that was rather more expensive than would be typically seen in this area pulled up in front of the estate. Dean Baker got out of the car, leaned back in the say something, then made a rude gesture to the remaining occupant or occupants of the car. He slammed the door, allowing it to speed off. Harry gave Baker time to get up to the flat before following him up.

Baker was, of course, incredibly surprised when Harry entered the flat and locked the door behind himself. “Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, spittle flying. “The fuck do you think you’re doin’, comin’ in here?” He reached for a food encrusted knife on the counter.

Almost casually, Harry kicked the knife from his hand, quite possibly breaking the bones in his wrist in the process. Baker snarled in pained fury and charged forward, attempting a haymaker with his off hand. Harry sidestepped it and drove his forearm into his nose. Dazed, Baker stumbled back. Harry swept his legs out from under him, kicked him over onto his front, then knelt astride his back, pinning Baker’s offhand under one knee. He gripped Baker’s damaged wrist and twisted it up behind him just to the point of dislocating his shoulder. “Good evening, Mr. Baker. I have some questions for you,” he said pleasantly.

“F-fuck you, you filthy fuckin’ piece of shit!” Baker snarled. He tried to buck and writhe but quickly found that any movement increased the agony of his shoulder.

“I’m afraid I shall have to decline the offer,” Harry said dryly. “Now then. I am looking for your step-daughter. What do you know of her whereabouts?”

“That fuckin’ slut?” Baker spat. “No fuckin’ clue. I find her, I’ll fuckin’ kill her! What’s she done to you anyway?”

“Not your business, Mr. Baker. It’s quite rude to pry. When was the last time you saw her?”

Baker simply cursed, loudly and quite uncreatively. With a sigh, Harry gripped the man’s pinky and broke it with a pleasant little crack. “When was the last time you saw Eggsy Unwin?”

“Fuckin’ shitstain piece of shit! I saw the little bitch a week ago, you fuck! She come in here like she fuckin’ owns the place and tries tellin’ my fuckin’ woman to leave. Ain’t fuckin’ seen the whore since. Now get the fuck off me!”

“No, I don’t think I shall.” He broke a second finger. “Now then. What did you do to her?”

“I swear to fuckin’ Christ I’ll kill you,” Baker vowed.

“Smarter, fitter, and certainly better smelling men than you have tried. What did you do to her?” He broke a third finger.

Baker wheezed for a minute. Harry gripped the fourth finger meaningfully. “Stabbed the cunt, yeah? comin’ into **my** home, tellin’ **my** woman what to do? When she ain’t even paid a penny in rent and acts like she’s too good to be runnin’ product to put the food in her belly? She had it comin’!”

“What happened after you stabbed her? Surely her mother wasn’t overly pleased with that.”

“That worn out old slag got uppity too. Got between me an’ her worthless spawn, din’t she, gave the little slut a chance to get out.”

“I’m sure you put her soundly in her place for that.”

“Too fuckin’ right I did. Now the fat cow fuckin’ disappeared on me. I’ll have her on her knees for days when she comes crawlin’ back. An’ I’ll finish the fuckin’ job with Muggsy when I get my hands on that bitch. Now get the fuck offa me!”

“So let me make sure I have this correct. Young Eggsy attempted to get her mother to leave you, after apparently refusing to continue to sell your drugs simply to be allowed to live in her mother’s flat and eat. For this incredibly daring crime, you stabbed her. When her mother intervened, Eggsy was able to escape, whereupon you proceeded to beat her mother for daring to save her daughter’s life. Is that an accurate summary?”

“Why do you care? You ain’t no fed, you ain’t no different from me, even with your posh suit an’ snob talkin’.” Baker shrieked as Harry broke the fourth finger. When Harry gripped his thumb, he nodded frantically. “Yeah, okay, fuckin’ yeah! Tha’s what happened. You happy now, you fuckin’ tosser?”

“Not in the slightest, Mr. Baker. You are a blight on humanity. A pustulent boil on the anus of the world. You will call off the search for both women. Go about your sad, fetid little existence and leave them both alone. If I find that you haven’t,” he wrenched the man’s thumb, breaking it, “I shall make this evening resemble a day at the spa for you before then gutting you like a fish and feeding you your own intestines. Are we clear?” he hissed. Baker nodded frantically again. “Excellent. Please do not make me return here, Mr. Baker. I have known pigs that kept their wallows in better condition. I won’t be pleased.” Just because he could, and frankly also because Baker disgusted him on a fundamental level, he gave a sharp jerk to the man’s arm to finish the job of dislocating his shoulder. That turned out to be the final straw and Baker passed out.

When Harry got to his feet to survey the man, the wet patch between his legs showed that he’d soiled himself at some point. The flat smelled so badly Harry hadn’t even known. Baker would have a fun time cleaning himself up without the function of his right arm. Harry was almost – _almost_ – sad to miss the struggle.

When he returned to HQ, Merlin was waiting for him. “How is young Miss Unwin?” he asked.

“She’ll recover. The knife missed anything vital, fortunately. It’s the infection, blood loss, and pneumonia that are the greater concerns,” Merlin informed him. “She is on a strong course of IV antibiotics and fluids, along with oxygen. She’s young, which will work in her favor. However, she’s also underweight, which will work against her. From the looks of her, she wasn’t resting or eating well for some time prior to both the stabbing and the onset of the pneumonia. As I said, however, I expect a full recovery. Now, what in god’s name were you doing, Harry? You smell dreadful.”

Harry grimaced. “I may need to burn this suit,” he agreed. “I looked up Mr. Baker. He is responsible for injuring Miss Unwin, as well as her mother. It will be quite some time before he’s up to holding a knife again, however. If he has the slightest bit of sense anywhere within him, he’ll leave both ladies alone. Is there an update on Michelle?”

“Her injuries have been treated. She has a fractured arm and numerous contusions. The concussion mixed with withdrawal will be her greatest concerns. James is waiting for her to wake up. She had to be sedated when the team extracted her from her flat.” Merlin perched on the edge of the desk. “So what’s the plan, Harry? Eggsy didn’t wish to accompany you,” he pointed out.

“True enough, though an argument can be made for her having been rather delirious with fever at the time. The plan, however, is simple. Get her and her mother healthy, then find out what they wish to do with their lives.” He grimaced. “Michelle may be the more difficult. Eggsy had already declined to continue running drugs for Baker and was attempting to get her mother to leave him. That was what prompted his attempt to kill her. She will likely be amenable to assistance with finishing her schooling, at minimum. Michelle doesn’t have any history of rehab at all. She may choose to return to Baker, and short of killing him, I am not sure we can prevent her if that’s the case.”

“If the girl is suicidal? Her request was only to help her mother.”

“Unless she viewed helping her and helping her mother as separate favors, in which case it would indicate a selfless desire to help those she loves. We shall just have to see what her state of mind is when she wakes up.”

“True enough.” Merlin stood and made a shooing motion towards the door. “Now go home. Shower, for all our sakes. There’s nothing more you can do here, and I won’t allow you to contaminate my medical ward in your current condition. Provided there are no complications, I’ll allow you in to see her tomorrow.”

“Very well. Please let me know when James returns. I’m hoping he will have more insight to the ladies’ history.”

With nothing more he could do for either woman, Harry returned home. He bagged his smelly suit for cleaning (or burning. He would leave that up to Leodegrance’s judgement) then indulged in a long, hot shower. When he finally turned in, he found that sleep didn’t come easily. He kept hearing the desperation in Eggsy’s voice, both from her call and when he’d gotten to her, begging for help for her mother. The fear – probably justified, as Baker _had_ been looking for her – when she refused to go to hospital. She had been so light in his arms as well, and her cheeks more sharply defined than he felt was healthy. He simply couldn’t fathom how Michelle had gone from the strong, caring woman that Lee had spoken so highly of, to a woman who could have been taken in by Baker and drugs. Which had come first? Had she found Baker while in search of drugs, or had Baker weaseled into their lives and brought that poison with him? Hopefully James’ discussion with Michelle would shed some light on the subject.

His sleep that night, when it eventually came, was light and fitful. Just as he would find himself finally slipping into deeper sleep, he would again hear Eggsy’s shriek of pain when he’d begun to sit her up. The sound would jerk him back to wakefulness. He was still quite tired when he finally got up for the day and grumpily made his way to HQ.

When he slipped into Eggsy’s room, he found James seated beside her bed, looking as drawn as Harry felt. “And how is young Miss Unwin this morning?” he murmured.

“Still out,” James told him. “Her fever has come down a bit, Merlin tells me, but so far there’s been no noticeable improvement to her breathing.” He gestured at her. “She is still on oxygen and shall be for some time yet.”

Harry stepped up to the bed and looked down at her unconscious form. Someone had cleaned her up quite a bit, so her hair was at least clean if rather stringy and lifeless. Dark circles marred the skin under her eyes, and already fair skin was pale. An oxygen cannula was looped over her ears, helping her poor lungs get enough oxygen to her system. An IV was taped to the back of her hand, feeding her a steady drip of medications and nutrition. With a faint sigh, he took the seat next to James. “Were you able to speak with Michelle?”

“I was able to talk with her during the sweet spot between coming down but before the detox started. She met Baker four years ago. It would seem it was a whirlwind romance, and he was moved in with her within a year. Once they were actually married, he started to change.”

“Which would be when things began to change with Eggsy as well,” Harry murmured.

“Quite. Baker got Michelle hooked on Oxy then transitioned her to heroin. He kept her from leaving with threats to Eggsy, and kept Eggsy from doing much for her mother with threats to her mother. I _do_ hope you had a very stern word with him.”

“I’ll send the footage to you.”

“Lovely. Michelle was quite worried for her daughter. Apparently she hasn’t seen or heard from her since the altercation with Baker a week ago. She has no idea where Eggsy’s been staying. Even before that, Eggsy has been frequently gone, stopping home just long enough to say hello and change clothes. She told Baker to stuff it weeks ago with the drug running, theft, and pickpocketing, so it hasn’t been safe for her. The latest altercation was due to Eggsy trying to talk Michelle into leaving with her. Michelle didn’t know where Eggsy wanted her to go, just that Eggsy said she had a safe place where Michelle could get well and they would both be safe from Baker.”

“Promising. She sounds like something of a planner,” Harry approved.

“Hmm. Speaking of planning, what do you plan to do when the ladies have recovered?”

“You too?” Harry said, exasperated. “You and Merlin, honestly. It’s hardly complicated. Get them both healthy and see what further assistance they will take. Eggsy has already indicated that she would prefer to avoid Baker’s lifestyle. After he attempted to kill her daughter, one would hope that Michelle would be amenable to leaving Baker. It shouldn’t be difficult to arrange for a job and a new flat for her.”

“Let me worry about Michelle,” James said. “I believe we have something of a rapport started. You concentrate on young Miss Eggsy.”

“That may be for the best. She seems to like you more than myself, though I daresay the circumstances help with that.”

James sniffed. “I doubt it’s truly as a great a factor as you think. I am simply more charming.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Settling a bit more comfortably in the chair, Harry pulled out his phone and began to scan the news of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

Eggsy ached. That was the first thing she became aware of as consciousness slowly returned. Her whole body ached, really, but especially her stomach and chest. Then she noticed the dry, cool feeling in her nasal passages, and the feeling of something in her nostrils. Her hands flexed slightly, feeling soft cotton beneath her fingers and the ache of something hampering her right wrist. It seemed to take a titanic effort to slit her eyes open. A white ceiling unhelpfully revealed itself to her. Her eyes watered for a bit until her slow blinks eventually cleared them. A cough rattled loose, increasing the fire of her chest.

“Easy, my dear,” a soothing voice said. A man’s face popped into existence above her. He had perfectly coiffed brown hair and soft brown eyes and the most adorable cleft in his chin that Eggsy had ever seen in her life. A long fingered hand cupped the back of her head to help her lift it while another held a glass with a straw to her mouth. She drank gratefully, the cool water easing the scratch of her throat. It was taken away far too soon, but a hint of cramping in her stomach suggested perhaps he had the right idea. “There we go. Let that settle and you can have more.”

“Thanks,” she rasped, frowning at the sound of her own voice. “What…”

“You are in a private clinic,” the man said, still in that soothing voice. She liked it, she decided blearily. She’d never found anyone’s voice particularly pleasant or even notable before, but she definitely liked his. “Do you recall making a phone call?” he asked, gently setting her head back down.

“Phone call?” Eggsy frowned and tried to make her sluggish brain work. Memories started to trickle back. She’d gone to her mum’s flat while Dean was supposed to be out. She’d tried to talk her into leaving – she’d found a shelter across town, out of Dean’s territory, one that’d take them both after she’d told the counselors about their situation. Mum had been scared. Then Dean had returned and laid into her and…. Her hand moved to her side, the source of the stomach pain. She felt thick bandages beneath the blankets. “Dean!” she gasped. She tried to sit up. “I gotta find mum! Dean was layin’ into her….”

“Calm down, Eggsy,” the man urged, pulling her hand away from the stab wound and urging her to lie flat again. “Your mother is safe. I swear it. She was hurt, that’s true. She had a broken arm, a concussion, and a lot of bruising. She’s in another clinic, one that is better equipped to handle her detox.”

“He’ll be checking,” Eggsy warned urgently. “He’s got his dogs checking all the hospitals, I hafta find her!”

“She isn’t even in London, Eggsy. Dean and his pack of thugs cannot find her. Nor would they be able to get past security if they somehow did. Your mother is safe and in a place where she can heal,” the man promised. “Do you remember anything else?”

Eggsy kept frowning, straining her memory. Clearly more had happened, else she wouldn’t be in such a nice hospital room with such a well dressed man. “I ran,” she said hesitantly. “Tried t’ go to hospital but Rottie was outside, almost caught me. Brandon an’ them let me crash with ‘em for a bit, but Poodle kept comin’ round so it weren’t safe. Had to skip out the back. I think…I think I was gettin’ sick? An’ then….” She trailed off, prodding her stubborn brain to cough up the details. She put her hand to her chest then throat, feeling for the chain that never left her neck. “I think I was dyin’,” she whispered. “Did I call someone?”

The man pressed something into her hand. Even without looking she could tell it was her father’s medal. “You called in your favor. My name is Harry Hart, and I gave you that medal several years ago.”

Eggsy clutched the medal as she looked up at the man – at Harry. “The favor? But I asked for mum, not me.”

“My dear, I quite assure you there is sufficient favor for you both. You and your mother are both safe and receiving the medical care that you need. Dean Baker should not trouble you again, unless he is very, very stupid,” Harry told her, sounding so utterly confident that Eggsy had no trouble believing him. She knew the false confidence of brash young men, and she knew the confidence of men like Dean, who had plenty of muscle to back him up. Harry’s confidence was something else, something born of experience and real power.

“Dean is fuckin’ dumb as a stump,” she said blankly, staring into those calm, kind eyes.

“I have no doubt of that, having had a personal chat with him. However, he was in no condition to be out looking for anyone by the time we were done talking.”

A coughing fit interrupted her before she could ask what the hell that meant. Harry helped her sit up a bit, and even held tissues to her mouth as a thick, foul phlegm spewed out. Eventually the coughing subsided, leaving her panting and more sore than when she’d started. “That’s rank,” she wheezed. “Sorry.”

“Pay it no mind, my dear. I’m afraid you have a nasty case of pneumonia on top of an infected stab wound – it rather comes with the territory. The doctor has assured me that coughing it out is a good thing, as it will help to clear your lungs.” Apparently genuinely unbothered, Harry disposed of the tissues and brought the cup back to her mouth. She sipped at the cool liquid again, letting it ease the fresh pain of her ravaged throat. When the water was gone, she released the straw with a sigh and let her head relax against the pillow. Her eyes were getting heavy again. Harry fussed a bit, tucking the blanket higher up and smoothing her hair away from her face. “Rest, Eggsy. I swear you and your mother are both safe, and you need the rest to recover.” He shifted as though about to move away.

Without thinking, Eggsy snagged his sleeve with kitten-weak fingers. “You gonna be here when I wake up again?” She hated how pathetic and needy she sounded, but it was somehow very important to her that this man still be there when she woke up again. She didn’t know why or how, but he made her feel _safe_ , and that was something she hadn’t felt in years.

“If you like,” Harry said, sounding a little surprised.

“I do like,” she said as she lost the battle with her eyelids. If he said anything else, she didn’t hear it as darkness closed over her once again.

Her mind was a little clearer the next time she woke. She also felt a little better, the pain in her side and chest reduced, and memory was quick to return. The same white ceiling greeted her when she opened her eyes. She had enough strength to turn her head and spotted Harry in a chair beside her, paperback book held in one hand as he turned the page with the other. He really did have the most ridiculously long fingers she had ever seen. “Hi.” Immediately he dropped the book and leaned forward, a pleased smile on his face.

“Awake again! Are you beginning to feel better, my dear? The doctor tells me your lungs are sounding better, and the nasty infection in your side is almost cleared up.”

“Loads better. How long….”

“You’ve been with us for a week,” he told her. “You were in and out of it for the first few days, though I certainly hope you don’t remember them. Your fever was quite high, and the coughing sounded rather painful. Do you recall us speaking before?” She nodded. “Excellent. That was two days ago. Your fever had finally come down quite a bit. You may be pleased to know that it finally broke earlier this morning. In case you’re wondering, it is January 10th, 4:30 in the afternoon.”

Eggsy grimaced, heart sinking. Fuck Dean anyway. Their place at the shelter was probably gone. The woman had said she could only hold it for two days. Two days that she had spent desperately pressing paper towels or whatever else she could find to staunch the bleeding every time she moved and started it up again. “How’s mum?”

Harry studied her. Now that she was more alert, she could see the keen assessment going on behind the kindness. Part of her bristled, as it always did when some posh fucker gave her that superior, judging look. “Your mother is doing well. A friend of mine has been looking in on her. She’s over the worst of the physical withdrawal. She will begin treatment.”

Eggsy felt her heart lift a bit. “Yeah? She agreed to treatment?” she said, unable to keep the hope out of her voice.

“She did,” Harry assured her. “She told James something of what the pair of you have been through. Now that _you_ are safe, I believe she feels ready to tackle the addiction Dean Baker foisted on her. She seems a very determined woman.”

“She used to be,” Eggsy whispered. Her mum had tried to kick it before, but always went back. Used to say it was for Eggsy, that if she kept Dean happy, they had a place to live, food, and clothes, but….

“I do believe she still is. After all, she was able to produce you, was she not? You have shown a great deal of strength, Eggsy. You were able to go a week with a rather deep, untreated stab wound. You kept yourself safe and hidden all that time, avoided Baker’s thugs, and you were able to call for help for both yourself and your mother. Your loyalty and determination are quite remarkable.”

Eggsy turned her face away. She didn’t know what to do with that. No one had complimented anything about her for so long, she couldn’t actually remember the last time it had happened.

Harry, thankfully, let it go. “Now then, I’m afraid I was rather soundly scolded for not calling the doctor in straight away the last time you awoke. He will want to check you over, if you can stay awake just a little longer.”

“Yeah okay.”

Harry pressed a button that was attached to a long cord that was lying beside her hand. In just a couple minutes, a tall bald man came striding in holding a clipboard. “Ah, Miss Unwin. It’s good to see you awake,” he said, Scottish brogue thick. “I am Dr. Hamish Campbell. I’ve been overseeing your care since Harry brought you in. I’d like to check you over while you’re awake and able to answer questions. Harry,” he jerked his thumb imperiously at the door. “Privacy, if you don’t mind.”

“No, stay!” Eggsy snatched at Harry’s sleeve, as she had done the last time. She eyed the doctor, a bit embarrassed but determined. She didn’t know either of them, really, but she trusted Harry. She had no memory of the bald man at all, and the sight of him didn’t inspire the same instinctive trust as Harry did. She was weak right now, and alone. Those were not safe conditions in her world. Either would bring out the predators. Both….

“If you’re willing to tolerate him nattering on, it’s up to you,” the doctor shrugged. He rounded the bed to be on the opposite side from Harry. With brisk motions, he lowered the blankets to her waist and eased the hospital gown up. Now that she was paying attention, she was horribly aware that she had on neither panties nor pants, and it certainly felt like there was something down there. “You’ve been in a bad way for several days,” Campbell began as he peeled the edge of the dressing up. “Your fever was a bit of a fighter. Between the infection and the pneumonia, it’s really not a wonder. We treated the injury, stitched it up, and we’ve had you on IV fluids, antibiotics, and fever reducers. Unfortunately, we also had to catheterize you.” He pressed carefully around the line of ugly black stitches. “Does this hurt? A bit of tenderness is to be expected, but if you feel any sharp pain anywhere, there could be a pocket of infection remaining.” She shook her head. It was sore, but not particularly sharp. “The color looks good, swelling is gone.” He tucked the gown back down and tugged the blankets up a little higher. He pushed a button and the bed whirred faintly, raising her torso slowly. When it was halfway vertical, he stopped.

“Alright, now I’ll need you to sit all the way up if you can. If you feel anything pulling, tell me at once. You have some internal stitches. They should be dissolving, but if you feel a tug inside, it could be a sign of something ready to re-open in there.” Eggsy shifted her grip to Harry’s hand and used it to brace herself as she went as vertical as she could manage. She did pretty well, she thought, and nothing pulled inside. Campbell fit a stethoscope in his ears and pressed the disk to her chest through the thin gown. “Breathe in, deep as you can.” Eggsy inhaled deeply, then started coughing. Harry was right there with a wad of tissues, arm wrapped around her chest to brace her until the fit passed. Campbell actually took the tissues and looked at the phlegm she’d spit out. “Good, nice and clear,” he approved. “Now then, let’s try that again. Slower this time, stop if you feel you need to cough.” Eggsy obeyed, taking a much slower breath. She held it when she felt the catch in her chest, then let it out with relief when instructed. He moved the disk to another spot and had her repeat the process. They did the same thing a couple more times on her chest, then he moved the disk to her back to do it all over again. She caught Harry’s gaze and rolled her eyes. His lips twitched a bit, like he was fighting a smile.

“Excellent,” Campbell finally said, tugging her gown closed in back and allowing her to recline again. Harry fussed for a few seconds, tugging the blankets up and tucking the edges around her. “I do believe you are well and truly on the mend, Miss Unwin. You’ll remain with us for another week, unless something truly untoward should happen to set back your recovery. We will remove the IV, as long as you promise to continue your antibiotics by mouth.”

“I will, bruv,” she promised. “Anything to get the fuckin’ needle outta my arm.”

“Not a fan of needles then, I take it.”

She gave him a flat look. “I ain’t a fan of injectin’ _anything_ , an’ I don’t like anyone else doin’ it neither.”

Campbell didn’t appear offended at all and simply shrugged. “Fair enough. If you still feel awake enough, I’ll send the nurse in to remove the IV and catheter.”

“I’m good,” she assured him.

Campbell nodded, and this time when he pointed Harry at the door, Eggsy let him go. She’d never had a catheter before, but she was quite certain she didn’t need a witness for its removal. A couple minutes after the men left, there was a perfunctory knock on the door. A brusque, middle aged woman entered without waiting for a response. “My name is Nancy, I’m to remove your IV and cath. Hold still for me, please.” She washed her hands quickly, snapped on a pair of gloves, then swiftly peeled away the tape holding the IV in place. With a few efficient moves, she’d slid the needle out, pressed a bit of rolled gauze over the puncture, and taped it in place.

Once she’d disposed of the nearly empty IV bag and needle, she laid the bed back down flat. The blankets were folded out of the way and Eggsy gown tugged up. Eggsy craned her head to look and could see tubing running down from the juncture of her thighs with pale yellow fluid in it. The nurse changed her gloves, and used a fat, needleless syringe to withdraw clear fluid from a hole on the side of the tubing right near the top. Eggsy squeezed her eyes shut when she began to pull the catheter out. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it was fucking uncomfortable, and the nurse wasn’t going out of her way to be all that gentle.

Eggsy was left to cover herself back up as the nurse disposed of the used equipment. She favored the woman with a sour look but held her tongue. She was looking at a week in this place and didn’t dare risk pissing off the staff that would be helping her.

“Right then,” Nancy said. “You might feel a bit of discomfort. That should go away after you urinate a few times. You should inform the doctor if it doesn’t. Dinner will be brought in at 5:30. Do you have any food allergies we need to be aware of?”

“Nah, can eat anything, me.” Eggsy was about to add in her utter loathing of broccoli, but Nancy nodded and cut her off.

“Good. I’ll make a note on your chart. Press the call button when you need to use the toilet. Someone should assist you to and from until you have your strength back.” With a final nod, Nancy left as brusquely as she’d arrived.

“Nice bedside manner,” Eggsy grumbled, trying to get comfortable. She wanted the bed raised a bit higher, as being flat brought back the urge to cough, but she didn’t know where the button was. She shifted around and finally folded her pillow in half to keep her chest at an angle. It wasn’t exactly good enough, but she was frankly exhausted and didn’t want to risk Nancy being the one to return of she used the call button. She finally ended up curled on her side, fighting down the urge to cough.

There was a polite little tap at her door. When it wasn’t immediately thrown open, Eggsy called out, “C’mon in.” Then immediately started coughing again.

Harry rushed over to her and helped her sit up, bracing her front against his arm while he rubbed her back soothingly. When she stretched out for the box of tissues he gave it to her, continuing to hold her until she’d finished clearing her lungs. “You shouldn’t lay flat, my dear. Bit of an angle is better for you.”

“Not my idea,” she told him sourly. “An’ I dunno where the buttons are.”

“Ah.” Harry settled her back down then pulled a second remote up onto the bed by the call button. He pressed the up arrow until her torso was at an easy angle. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Not at all. The nurse should have shown you how to use this.” He fussed with her blankets a bit more, then gestured at the chair. “May I sit?”

Eggsy blinked at him. “Yeah, course.” Harry settled once again in what she was rapidly beginning to think of as ‘his’ chair, legs crossed neatly, not a wrinkle in sight on his suit.

“I don’t wish to keep you awake if you wish to sleep. You’ve really only just woken up, and it’s been rather eventful,” he said.

“No worries, mate. They’ll be bringing food in a bit, no point in trying to sleep just to wake up again right away.” She twisted a fold of the blanket in her fingers, looking down and away from those eyes. “Suppose you wanna talk bit more ‘bout this,” she sighed, gesturing to the stitches hidden beneath soft cotton.

“Only a bit,” he assured her. “I simply wished to know if you have somewhere you wish to go, once you’re released from Campbell’s clutches.”

Eggsy snorted. “Got nowhere t’go, bruv. Had a couple spots at a shelter I found, but they don’t hold ‘em for long. I can try crashin’ with one’a my mates again. If Dean’s gonna give up on us, it might be safe enough.”

“I would like to offer you another option. I have a spare room and no company. I would certainly be pleased if you would come stay with me, at least until such time as you have a permanent solution worked out for yourself.”

Eggsy immediately narrowed her eyes. She’d been wrong about people before – look at Dean, even she’d thought he was nice enough when mum had first started dating him. “What’s the catch?” she demanded. “Certain kinds of company that I _won’t_ do.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “As there are certain kinds of company I would not expect from you, that should work nicely. Eggsy, I will not expect or ask for sexual favors from you. All I am offering is a safe place to stay, get your strength back, and perhaps figure out what you wish to do with the rest of your life.”

“Why? You already did plenty for me, more’n I hoped for,” she pointed out. She hesitated. “Is it cause you knew my dad?”

“In part, yes. He was a brave man. A good man. And it’s my fault that he’s dead.”

Eggsy drew back, eyes wide. “What? I don’t – “

“I missed something,” Harry explained. “The day he died, I missed something. If it weren’t for your father, my mistake would have cost the lives of every man present that day. Your life, and your mother’s life, would have been very different as well, Eggsy. I cannot change the past, but if you’ll let me, I would like to help you reach your future.”

“So, you was in the army then, huh?”

Harry hesitated, just for a moment. “Not exactly. I’m afraid it’s classified.”

“Oh. So what you do these days?”

“I’m a tailor. I work out of a shop on Savile Row. Kingsman Tailor, it’s called.”

“Yeah? Explains the suit. Even a pleb like me can spot that ain’t no off the rack job.”

“Bespoke, yes. The modern gentleman’s armor,” he joked.

“So you was doing somethin’ for the army but it’s classified, you’s make fancy suits for rich blokes now, an’ you wanna put up your dead squad mate’s kid til she can get her life figured out.” Her eyes narrowed. “You said you dealt with Dean. How? You hurt him or sommat?”

“I did, yes. Does that bother you?”

“No. Fucker has it comin’ a hundred times over. Just trying to figure out your game. You’s all posh gentleman, yeah, but you found me even though I never said where I was on the call. So’s you know someone who can track mobiles for you. You got my mum into some fancy rehab place, somewhere not in London but has security. You got me in here, ain’t no one talked to me about money even though this place has hospital blankets softer’n baby blankets, so it ain’t NHS, that’s for fuckin’ sure. An’ you went down the estates and hurt Dean bad enough that you think he’ll stay away from me an’ mum. You can do all that, an’ you still wanna help a nothin’ like me,” she finished. “That math don’t work, bruv. Yeah, dad saved your life. You saved mine already, you saved mum’s. 2 for 1, Harry, debt paid.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t really your call to make,” Harry said stiffly.

“Ain’t it? I’m the one half orphaned,” she pointed out bluntly.

Harry held up a hand. “Very well, say you’re right. Say such a debt can be measured in such a way, and I _have_ paid it. That doesn’t change a thing. You are _not_ a nothing, Eggsy. I have seen your records. Before you dropped out of school, you were showing genius level intellect. Before you quit gymnastics, your coach had you on an Olympic track. You have already shown that you are _fiercely_ loyal, willing to sacrifice your own life to save your mother’s. Those are not the actions of a ‘nothing’. I believe you can do anything you put your mind to, and it would be a genuine privilege if you would allow me to help you do it.”

Eggsy closed her eyes and turned her face away. It was a pretty line, one she desperately wanted to believe, so much so that she could feel tears stinging at the backs of her eyes. But Dean had used pretty lines too, worming his way into her mum’s affections. Pretty lines weren’t worth the breath used to speak ‘em.

Her eyes flew open when a warm hand took both of her chilled ones. She looked from where Harry held her hands up to his eyes. They were warm, and kind, and she couldn’t see anything in them that spoke of deception. “Eggsy. Please. I’m asking you to trust me. I know that’s a great deal to ask. I swear to you, on my honor, you will be safe with me.”

She swallowed. The problem wasn’t that she didn’t trust him – she did. And _that_ was the problem. She had never trusted someone so totally before, and definitely not so quickly. But she did trust him, not just with herself, but her mother as well. She had taken everything on faith already. Proof would only, _could_ only, come with time. “Okay.” She cleared her throat and tried again, this time sounding less full of tears, “Okay. Thank you.”

“No, my dear. Thank _you_ for trusting me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Eggsy had butterflies in her stomach. It was so damn strange. She hadn’t been nervous like this since she was a kid. Terrified, sure. But something as benign simple nervousness was damn near foreign. Which, she supposed, was actually a good thing. Not being afraid for her or her mother’s life was something she could get used to. Had to mean she was moving up in the world. She gave herself a bit of a kick in the pants and got started on packing the things that Harry had brought for her during her stay.

And hadn’t that been humiliating, knowing Harry, with his bespoke suit and probably handmade shoes had seen and actually been inside her filthy little flat, had seen the old food, overflowing trash, the cigarette butts and empty booze bottles? Not to mention whatever drug paraphernalia had been left lying about. The fact that he’d packed her underthings had paled in comparison, really. At least her stuff had been clean, unlike the rest of the flat.

She took a deep breath, gave herself a stern look in the mirror, and swept her toiletries all in one go into her knapsack. Harry had actually apologized for not being able to locate her suitcase. She’d giggled herself into a coughing fit until she’d realized he was serious. And then she’d laughed at his look of dismay. She didn’t doubt that it had been an honest mistake, and the faint embarrassment had been. Well. Adorable. He was so posh it hurt sometimes.

Once begun, it was quick work to cram her few belongings into the bag. She did a quick sweep to make sure nothing had been missed, then perched on the end of the bed to wait for someone to come fetch her to sign out.

She expected Campbell, as the doctor. Instead she got Nancy, her least favorite of the nurses. Of the three that she had seen during her stay, only Nancy had consistently acted as though she had much better things to be doing than assisting Eggsy with whatever matter had come up. Eggsy had half expected the wheelchair that she showed up with. She had _not_ expected the syringe that Nancy came at her with. “Whoa, hey. What the fuck? I’m not due for any shots!”

“It’s just a mild sedative for the trip home. Give me your arm.”

“No.” For good measure, Eggsy slid around to the other side of the bed to keep the piece of furniture as a barrier.

Nancy blinked, apparently startled that someone was telling her no. “It’s required. You can’t travel in this cold, with your delicate lungs, without something to relax them.”

“That makes no fuckin’ sense, an’ you ain’t sticking me with anything, ya get me?”

“Then you won’t be able to leave, dear.”

“My name ain’t ‘dear’, an’ you can’t keep me here.”

“You’re being childish.”

“An’ you’re being a creepy cunt,” Eggsy snapped back. “I been putting up with your shit the entire time I been here, but I got limits. You just fuckin’ hit ‘em. Now take that syringe out of here, or I’ll be jabbing it into your arse, see how you like being sedated against your will.”

Lips thinning, Nancy started to march around the bed. In a flash, Eggsy leaped over it and ran for the door. As she flung it open, she heard Nancy yelling something behind her. She didn’t pay it any mind as she headed into the hallway. Both directions looked the same, and there were  no signs to indicate an exit. At random, she turned left and started to run. There was a left turn at the end which she took at a dead run, and crashed straight into James.

“Eggsy, dear, what is going on?” James demanded, catching her around the waist. Eggsy planted both hands in the middle of his chest and shoved. She half expected him to hold on, but he released her as he stumbled back a few paces.

“I want out of here. Right now!” she demanded. Hearing footsteps, she turned and started to edge back. Nurse Nancy rounded the corner looking pissed. “Keep away from me, psycho lady,” she warned.

“What the hell is going on here? Nancy?” James demanded.

“It’s time for her to leave, and she’s refusing her sedative,” the nurse explained, like it was just common practice to knock people out when they left hospital.

The blank look on James’ face was a bit reassuring. “Why would she be sedated to leave?”

Nancy gave him an exasperated look, like he wasn’t playing to script. “For her _lungs_ of course. To keep them relaxed in the cold.”

“I’ve already said no. You can’t force people to take meds they don’t want. It’s illegal.” Eggsy narrowed her eyes. “I’m not stupid. Something is seriously fucked up here. I want out, and I want out now.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Campbell’s irritated brogue sounded.

“I quite agree, this has gotten extremely out of hand,” Harry said.

Eggsy put her back to the wall and looked around a bit wildly. James in front of her (he’d been so nice, and told her all about her mother’s condition, even arranged for her mother to call her the other day!) Nancy to her right, and Harry and the doctor to her left. Her heart was pounding with a sick terror, wondering what they were planning to do to her.

“Eggsy, no one is going to drug you,” Harry promised her. “I told you this was a private clinic. Classified would perhaps be more accurate. I do believe Nancy intended to sedate you until we were back in London to conceal its location.”

“I’ll keep my eyes closed, but she ain’t drugging me.” Eggsy started slipping down the hall towards Harry.

Harry held up a black sleeping mask. “That was rather what I had planned, actually. Nancy, you’re dismissed.”

Nancy sighed, clearly irritated. “Such a child,” she muttered.

Eggsy scowled, then smiled sweetly. “I really hope, when you’re old an’ weak an’ in a care home, dependent on everyone around you to wipe your arse, that you get nurses _just_ as sweet an’ gentle as you. I hope they’s as considerate as you been to me, an’ leave you as comfortable as you left me every time you was in.”

“Why do I think the sentiment behind that isn’t as sweet as the words sound?” Campbell asked.

“I dunno. Maybe you ain’t as dumb as she is, thinking I was just gonna let her stick me.”

Harry gave her a slightly reproving look but didn’t say anything. He traded her the mask for her knapsack, then tucked his hand under her arm. “If you would be so kind as to put the mask on, Eggsy, we shall head home. Dr. Campbell will pay a house call in a week or so, just to make sure you’re still recovering as you should. I have the remainder of your antibiotics. Anything else, doctor, or does that just about cover it?”

“Go on, get out of here. I have paperwork to do.” Campbell waved them off then turned on Nancy. He and James closed in on the woman, but Harry guided her in putting on the mask before she could really see anything.

“I do apologize for the fright she gave you, Eggsy. While it’s quite true that this is a classified location, and rarely treats anyone without clearance, I find it hard to reconcile that with the idea of knocking you out to transport you.”

Eggsy patted the mask into place then groped out until she found Harry’s arm. “Maybe she’s watched too many spy movies or sommat,” she joked.

“Perhaps. It’s just so ridiculously cloak and dagger,” he sniffed.

Her heart rate was almost back to normal, thankfully. She kept hold of Harry’s arm as he guided her through the building. She half wished that she’d left a sliver, at least, at the bottom of the mask so she could at least see a bit of the floor to help keep her oriented, but Harry had extended his trust to her in this, which felt pretty nice. Besides, who knew what the crazy people would do if they thought she’d seen the color of their hallway carpet?

The trip out was very odd. First they’d been on some kind of train, then what felt like the longest elevator in the world – going _up_. When they’d come out, she could have sworn she smelled leather and wool, and she most certainly heard and smelled a fire crackling in a fireplace. Then they stepped outside into what was clearly London traffic. Harry didn’t remove the mask until they’d been traveling by car for several minutes. “I do appreciate the indulgence, Eggsy. We’re almost to the house.”

Eggsy nodded and tried not to plaster her face to the window as they passed. Figures that Harry would live somewhere like this. No council estate for mr. bespoke suit. She was going to stand out like crazy around this neighborhood.

When they pulled up in front of one of the larger, nicer houses around, she almost changed her mind and had the cab take her to the estates. But fuck it all, if his neighbors had an issue, that was their problem. Harry was smart enough to expect the gossip. Harry carried her bag inside for her and gave her a bit of a tour. Admittedly, the butterflies in their little glass displays were a bit weird, but it could be worse. At least the butterflies were pretty, kind of, and no where near as boring as stamps.

The bedroom he put her in seemed huge, easily big enough to fit two of her old bedrooms in it. And she’d never had a bed so big. Her little knapsack of clothes looked kind of sad once she’d hung them up. He even had a basement, with a little washer and dryer in one corner, and a treadmill and weight machine in the other that he said she could use to get her strength back up. It’d take a bit before her stomach muscles healed fully, and she wanted to at least be easing back into some good stretching to keep her flexibility. Campbell had given her several stretches she could work on for physio.

Staying with Harry was weird. When she crashed with her mates, it was easy. She could just flop down on a couch and watch telly all day if she wanted. With Harry, she felt like she was always on the verge of spilling something or breaking something. Harry played the perfect host, cooking actual meals, refusing to let her help clear up. He was fun to talk to, especially when he started talking about some of the places he’d been. But he never left either, and for someone supposedly employed as a tailor, she wondered at how much holiday time he really had. But if she considered that the tailoring was just a cover for something, it was only that much weirder, since what kind of undercover _anything_ could afford to take so much time off? He’d been with her every single day in that clinic – even before she’d been truly awake. It was pushing a solid three weeks of him not working, and she couldn’t help…wondering. If anything he’d said was really true. Or if maybe, now that he had her here, he was regretting it a bit, wondering if she was gonna start pinching the silver soon as his back was turned. And he _had_ actual silver flatware, which was just – seriously, it was like a modern Downton Abbey, kind of.

But she liked it. After a full week, she finally stopped panicking when she woke up, since she was able to remember where she was rather than freaking out for a few seconds that she’d somehow been kidnapped like Liam Neeson’s daughter or something. She was also able to convince Harry to let her help make the tea, and decided his prior refusal was out of some weird idea that washing dishes or making tea would somehow overtax her. And when Harry pulled out cleaning supplies, she jumped right in and was able to drown his protests under a fierce glare and popped off to clean the loo, just like someone who actually lived somewhere, rather than someone who was merely a guest.

Admittedly, opening the downstairs loo for the first time was something of a shock, what with the dog mounted over the toilet. But it was cute, in a kind of weird way, to hear Harry wax poetic on his beloved Mr. Pickle, who had died of pancreatitis after eleven apparently blissful years.

On the eighth day of her stay, Campbell showed up for the promised house call to check up on her. She was done with the last of her antibiotics and her lungs were completely clear, not even a hint of a need for a cough, even when she hit the treadmill for an hour. Sure, she wasn’t quite up to her old speed yet, still tired a bit easily, but her body had taken quite a beating so all in all she thought she was doing pretty well.

Campbell stayed for dinner. In a more casual setting, he proved to have more than a touch of sarcastic wit to him, and never failed to take an opportunity to rip on Harry. Harry gave as good as he got, and she got the impression that they’d been friends for a long time. Eggsy found herself laughing a full belly laugh more than once. Eventually, she began to get tired, while the men were still going strong over what was apparently expensive scotch. Harry shooed her off to bed when she could no longer stifle her yawns.

She just couldn’t make herself fall asleep. As soon as her head hit the pillow, her brain started whirling, eventually circling around to her mother. Thinking she may as well see if Campbell could give her an idea of how long her mother’s treatment might take, and maybe see if he would mind asking James to arrange another call for her, she slipped out of bed and snuck back down the stairs, mostly just to see if she could, since Harry seemed to have almost a sixth sense for when people were about.

She was almost to the bottom of the stairs when she heard their voices.

“….won’t be patient for much longer, Harry. Arthur is already displeased that you have the girl staying here. You’ll need to return to work sooner or later, and Arthur won’t tolerate later,” Campbell was saying. He sounded frustrated and worried.

“Merlin, I am well aware of that. Arthur has certainly delighted in finding the stuffiest of ways of calling me on the carpet. I will return when I am ready to do so. Eggsy is just barely starting to become comfortable here. When she feels more at home, I’ll speak with her about her plans for the future, and not a moment sooner.”

“Stubborn bastard. You could at least start taking some shifts at the shop! With both you and James out playing mother hen, Andrew is a bit short. That would calm Arthur for a bit.”

“I’ll think about it,” Harry finally allowed. “You worry too much, old boy. What’s he going to do, sack me?”

“At this point, he’s itching to find a way!”

Biting her lip, Eggsy crept back up the stairs as quietly as she’d gone down them. So Campbell was also called Merlin, and their boss was called Arthur. Fine. She had known they were more than they appeared to be, and if they wanted to use weird codenames for each other, she wouldn’t say a word. But Harry was on the verge of losing his job, and over _her_. That she couldn’t get past. Right now, he seemed fine with it. But she knew all too well how quickly ‘fine’ could turn to regret. He could say all he liked about her supposed talents, but one day, probably pretty soon from the sounds of it, he’d give her that same look of disappointed regret, and wonder why he’d gone to so much trouble for her, when all she’d done was drag him down. If she hadn’t been around, her mum would have been much better off. She’d have been able to hold a job without having to take off for a sick kid, and she’d have had more money in her pocket without having to buy all the stuff a kid needs. Her mum loved her, she knew that, but there was no denying that she would have had an easier time of it on her own.

Eggsy was playing at being something she wasn’t every minute she stayed there, and it was causing Harry problems.

She waited until she heard the door close downstairs, signaling that Campbell had left. Then she waited until she heard Harry climb the stairs and go about his nightly routine and finally shut his bedroom door. She gave it one more hour after that before she eased out of bed and dressed in the dark. It was easy to shove her few clothes in her knapsack. She dismissed her toiletries – expensive stuff, that Harry had brought her – and left behind as well the expensive, and incredibly warm winter coat he’d given her. She couldn’t afford to try going out the front door anyway, and it didn’t feel right to take it. She doubled up on sweatshirts against the cold instead. With the knapsack slung on her back, she eased the window open and climbed out. It hadn’t been so long since she’d last been free running that she was out of practice. She let herself dangle from the window sill, took a breath, then jumped down as lightly as she could. She landed with gratifying ease, absorbing the shock with her knees. Scaling over the back garden fence was just as easy. From there, she hopped fences and yards until she reached the end of the block.

Once she hit the street, well out of view of Harry’s lovely house, she tucked her hands into her pockets and set off at a brisk pace. She didn’t have money for a cab or even the tube, but the long walk across town would keep her warm enough. She’d call Brandon – because of course Harry had topped up the minutes on her mobile for her – and arrange a place to meet him. With Dean off her back, it should be safe enough to crash with him, or maybe his sister Annie. Annie lived somewhere a bit nicer than the estates, and might be willing to put her up for a bit. If Eggsy could find a job, maybe waiting tables or something, that’d buy her time to maybe finish school up and get a better job. Or hell, maybe she could convince her mum to not flip out if she wanted to join the army like her dad.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry eyed the dingy little pub that housed Eggsy – or at least her mobile. He centered himself, making sure his anger was well leashed, though it was difficult. It had been quite a shock when he’d gone to knock on Eggsy’s door and not receive an answer. He’d been worried enough about a relapse to go in without permission and found the window open and all her clothes gone.

Merlin had not been amused at his demand to track her mobile, and it had taken a lot of convincing to get him to finally agree to do so. That the phone had traced back to her old neighborhood hadn’t helped. Merlin was half convinced she was selling them out. Steeling himself, he walked in.

She was easy to spot, sat in a corner booth across from a young man he recognized from pictures on her mobile. A friend of hers, one who had occasionally sheltered her from her step-father’s searching. Neither noticed him as he approached.

“You shouldn’t be down here, Eggsy,” the young man said in an anxious whisper. “The dogs is raging, yeah? They’s lookin’ fer you. You should go back to where you was stayin’. They had no clue. You’d be safe there.”

“I can’t, Brandon. I’m just causin’ trouble there. You think Annie would –“

“Fuck no, not the way the dogs is barking up trees. They been to her place already, scared the piss out o’ her.”

“Fuck. Alright. Lemme kip on your couch for a few hours, I’ll head to the place I found for me ‘n mum. Mum’s good where she is, maybe they’ll be able to find a spot for one easier’n they did for two.”

Harry dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder, making both of them jump. Eggsy twisted around to look up, eyes flashing fear for a moment. It only made him angrier. He had never so much as raised his voice to her, and she looks at him like that? He gave the boy a cold look. “You should go, young man. I need to have a word with Eggsy, here.”

To his credit, the young man hesitated, looking to Eggsy. She jerked her head towards the door. “You should go,” she told him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you later.”

That was all the urging the young man needed to slide out of the booth and trot out of the pub. Harry slid into his vacated seat. “Lovely place,” he drawled. “I can certainly see why you missed it so badly you had to sneak out without so much as a note.”

Eggsy had the grace to flinch. “How did you find me?”

“Your mobile, Eggsy. The same way I found you the first time. I suppose I should just be thankful you don’t need medical attention this time as well.” Eggsy looked away, arms crossing defensively over her chest. “Do I at least get the courtesy of an explanation?”

“Harry, c’mon. We both know I don’t belong there. It was more’n nice of you to offer, but it weren’t really working. Wasn’t never gonna work. I’m sorry I din’t tell you’s to your face, but I just din’t want you doin’ that polite thing where you’s tell me I’m wrong and try t’ convince me t’ stay, yeah?”

“Well, on that I can certainly reassure you,” he drawled. “That is not a mistake I shall make again.” She nodded, holding herself just a bit tighter. “It’s rare that I make mistakes. I suppose I should be thankful you left when you did and helped me realize how wrong I was. You _don’t_ belong there. Quitters don’t belong there.” She just hunched in on herself, face tight, eyes pinched and hurt. “I suppose I should call James, have him pick your mother up. I’m sure her hospital will be relieved to have the bed freed up.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock before closing again with a snap. Her face went completely blank, with not a hint of emotion in her eyes. “If that’s what you gotta do, bruv. She’ll be glad she had the chance to dry out proper.”

“You would be fine with that, then. Removing your mother without her finishing her treatment.”

“Ain’t my choice, is it?”

“Are you takin’ the fuckin’ piss right now?” a voice demanded. Harry whipped his head around to look and saw six men standing in the doorway. They were wholly focused on Eggsy, who swore under her breath. “We been lookin’ for you. You’s fair game now that Dean ain’t fuckin’ your mum. Is this the posh fucker that jumped him in ‘is own fuckin’ home?”

“He ain’t nobody,” Eggsy said derisively. “Just some twat lookin’ t’buy what I ain’t sellin’.”

The taller of the men, the one who seemed to be in charge, looked Harry over. Umbrella, fancy suit, lanky frame, and apparently judged him no threat. Certainly not threat enough to have crippled their boss. “You best push off, granddad, or you’ll get hurt n all. We gots to have a word with little Muggsy here.”

“He ain’t jokin’,” Eggsy hissed. “You should go, Harry.”

Harry blinked at her. That had been very genuine concern for his welfare in her voice. Though her eyes were still blank, there was no mistaking the worry for him. The suddenly rapid pulse at the base of her throat also spoke loudly of her current fear. With very deliberate motions, he stood up, straightened his cuffs, palmed his umbrella, and began to walk casually towards the door. The group passed him, and he could see in the reflection of the plaque by the door the way they surrounded the booth, leaving no avenue of escape.

The short, stout fellow called out a crude, “You’ll find better whores on the corner of Smith Street. Find you a pretty boy as’ll lick your arse til you can’t see straight. This one just lays there anyway.”

Oh. Well then.

It felt really quite good to flatten the entire lot of them. The sad little revolver that the tall one had actually almost made him laugh.

For just a moment as he straightened after using the stun feature of the umbrella to finally knock out the last one, he glimpsed both awe and longing on Eggsy’s face as she looked at him. He turned and darted the bartender as the lout finally began dialing for emergency services, though he had little doubt that the man would not have bothered had Harry actually left Eggsy to those men. “Enough,” he snapped. He strode over to her and pulled her to her feet. “ **Why** , Eggsy. Just tell me why you left! None of this ‘I don’t belong’ nonsense. I deserve the truth, at least, do I not?”

“Harry….”

He gave her a little shake. “No more lies!”

“Then why don’t you ask Merlin!”

Harry dropped her arm. “What did you say?”

“I said you should ask Merlin. I heard you,” she said simply. “I was coming down to ask Dr. Campbell – Merlin – something, and I heard you both. Your boss ain’t too pleased with you. You think I ain’t been here before? You think I haven’t had folks as promised to help me, only to have it get too much trouble? I’d rather you was pissed at me than giving me that ‘I just can’t deal with your issues no more’ look.”

“Oh, you darling little fool.” He couldn’t help pulling her into a tight hug. When she hesitantly hugged him back, he dropped a kiss into her messy light brown hair and hoped she didn’t notice. After several long, blissful moments, he made himself step back a bit, but consoled himself by cupping her face in his hands. “Listen to me, Eggsy. I can’t explain my job to you. But please believe me when I tell you that there is absolutely _nothing_ that my ‘boss’ can actually do to me. He can rage and bitch all he likes, but that is it.”

“He can fire you,” she argued.

“He can’t. Even if he could, it wouldn’t actually leave me in dire straights. I have more than sufficient money to last a few lifetimes. Even a title moldering about somewhere. You don’t need to protect me, Eggsy, especially not from yourself.”

She looked past him at the bodies littering the place. “I can see that,” she said, frankly admiring. “Did you do that to Dean too?”

“Worse, actually. If you’ll come home with me, I’ll show you the report from the hospital.”

“Harry….”

“Shall I beat up a few more thugs, would that help convince you?”

Finally she laughed. “You’re ridiculous. You know that, yeah? Stubborn and ridiculous.”

“Determined,” he corrected.

“Okay,” she said finally. Then she shook a finger in his face. “But you’re gonna let me help out around the house more. I ain’t some delicate little flower or somethin’, I’m all better now, I shouldn’t hafta fight you so’s you let me help clean the loo.”

“If you truly feel up to it, I shan’t complain,” he promised.

“And you’re going back to work. At the tailor shop, at least, since that sounds like it’s at least kinda real.”

“It’s very real,” he assured her. “I am actually quite adept at making suits.”

“Is there anything you can’t do, Mr. Perfect?” she said, a bit of sass finally entering her tone.

“Origami,” he answered promptly. “I tried, I’m absolutely pants at it. All those fiddly little folds just defeat me.” He started to reach for her knapsack then held his hands up when she shot him a fierce look. He made do with cupping her elbow instead, which she allowed with a sigh.

~

Eggsy put her stuff away again when they got back to Harry’s place. She couldn’t believe that he had tracked her down like that. She couldn’t believe he had _bothered_. No one had ever gone to so much effort for her before, and for him to have done so when he’d been so obviously furious seemed nothing short of a miracle. She never got this lucky.

Determined, she remembered. Yeah, he sure as hell was that. For a moment, she let herself sit on the bed and remember how he’d been in the pub. The way he’d moved, taking out Dean’s dogs like that, graceful and deadly and beautiful. She’d never thought of violence as beautiful before, but he had changed that, as he had changed so much else. Maybe she’d been wrong to tell him why she’d really left, but his eyes had seemed so very hurt under the anger, she hadn’t been able to stand against that. Then he’d hugged her and kissed her hair, and there was no way for her to say no again. Even if he never held her again she knew that one embrace would be the metric by which she measured all future touches from anyone else.

She could still smell his cologne, spicy and warm, on her sweatshirt.

When she went downstairs, she found him in the dining room on his mobile.

“Everything is fine, Hamish. A misunderstanding, that’s all. You may tell Arthur that I will return to the shop soon. Just one or two things to finish sorting out here.” He listened for a few moments then snorted. “You’re a delight, Hamish. I shall speak with you soon.” He hung up and slipped his mobile in his pocket. “All unpacked?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, yeah? For running off like that. I won’t do it again, swear down,” she promised.

“Thank you. Please, sit.” Harry gestured towards a chair then took his own seat kitty corner from her. With the air of one greatly daring, he took her hand in both of his. “We need to talk about what you heard,” he said seriously.

“I ain’t heard nothing,” she said promptly, guessing at least some of his concern.

“You certainly didn’t,” he agreed. “I am a tailor at a shop on Savile Row, who sometimes has to see clients in their homes rather than in the shop. We are very exclusive, you see, and offer services other tailors do not. I once knew your father through classified military connections. You heard nothing last night and you saw nothing today.”

“Harry, I ain’t ever grassed anyone an’ never will. You’re one o’ my dad’s old squad mates, doing a favor for your dead friend’s kid,” she assured him.

“Exactly,” he approved. He squeezed her fingers before letting go.

“An’ speaking of favors….” She hesitated a second then plunged ahead. “I need to finish school, Harry. I was lookin’ into it, when I was looking for a place for me an’ mum. I can do it online, but I need a computer. Is there one I can borrow, or a library round here I can go to use one?”

“I have a laptop. I’ll set up a guest profile for you to use. Do you have plans beyond finishing your schooling?”

“Not sure yet.” She drew her legs up and crossed her arms over her knees, resting her chin there as they talked. “Depends on how well I do, I suppose. Might not get the marks for university, but the military ain’t a bad way t’go. Meantime, I wanna look for a job. Can wait tables or somethin’.”

Harry immediately shook his head. “That’s not necessary, Eggsy. As I said, I have plenty of money. If you should need or want anything, you have only to say.”

Eggsy glared at him. “You ain’t my dad,” she said flatly. “An’ you ain’t my _daddy_. It’s enough giving me a safe place to stay an’ a chance to straighten my shit out. I gotta make my own way somehow, an’ I need a job for that.”

“You’re right, of course. But your studies should come first. If you find working while finishing your schooling is hampering those efforts, please reconsider.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Life settled into a new normal. Harry started leaving for work in the mornings. Eggsy structured her days around registering for and then working on her three years of missed schooling. She spent the mornings plowing through the work at her own pace (a relief, truth be told, from having to attend actual classes – they had never moved quite fast enough to keep up with her) then spent the afternoons either working out or out looking for work. Harry tended to return around 6 in the evening, so she started to learn to cook in order to have supper ready around then. Harry wasn’t the sort to enjoy the boxed and instant stuff she was used to, so youtube came to the rescue. At first Harry tried to tell her she didn’t need to, but after a couple times of her shrugging and eating it all herself, gave in and just appreciated her efforts.

Mid February found her finally having a job. A nearby pub hired her on. It was nicer than the Black Prince by far, and catered to a better off class of people, though there were as many folks wearing jeans as suits. Eggsy stuck out a bit with her worn out jeans and threadbare t-shirts, not to mention her accent, but it wasn’t bad. Her first honest paycheck brought a genuine swell of pride.

Harry wouldn’t let her chip in for groceries with it, though, which sparked a bit of a row. They finally compromised with her agreeing to use it to update her wardrobe and contributing to the food with the _next_ check.

The updated wardrobe sparked a bit of a change for her at work. Though no one had been outright rude before, they definitely had stared. The stares changed in tone when she started showing up in nicer clothes that fit properly. She even had the occasional tip left for her, which was nice.

March brought Harry’s first out of the country ‘client’ since she had known him. He kept promising that he wouldn’t be gone long and reminding her that she had James’ number, who was just a few blocks away if she should need anything. She had to promise to call James once a day to get him to shut up about it before he finally left.

James, to her exasperation, just showed up the day after Harry had left. She planted her hands on her hips in the doorway and cocked an eyebrow at him. He simply grinned rakishly, unabashed. “Now Eggsy, don’t give me that look. Your mother has been nattering on at me about checking to make sure you ate your veg, and Harry has been nattering on at me to make sure you make it home from work each night. I thought it would solve a great many problems if I avoided their calls by visiting you.”

“Well, you’d best come in, I suppose,” she allowed.

“Excellent. Harry always has the best whisky.” James strolled in and headed right for Harry’s liquor cabinet. He poured himself a generous measure into a cut crystal glass and raised it towards her in a cheery toast. She half expected him to slam it, but he sipped it as, as Harry had informed her, was only proper. “Now then, dear Eggsy. You seem to be surrounded by mother hens. How on earth do you cope? Honestly, I don’t believe I have ever seen Harry fuss so much over anyone. It must be maddening.”

“Eh, I manage. He cares, which is nice. ‘Sides, he’s awful fond of the chicken marsala I make, so he don’t get too bad unless he wants me to eat it at him an’ not let him have none.”

“Well done, Eggsy. Men are often easily managed through their baser instincts.” James toasted her again, making her lips twitch. “Now then, I actually do have something of a proposal for you. As much as it pains me to say it, your mother and Harry may have a small point. After all, we all met thanks to your having been stabbed, hmm? A gentleman doesn’t brag, but I do have to say, I’m fairly well versed in self-defense. I could show you a few moves, if you like. Michelle would feel ever so much better if she knew you could defend yourself, and should Harry grow an immunity to your chicken marsala, a broken bone or two should work as a backup measure.”

Eggsy boosted herself up to sit on the dining room table and let her legs swing. “So, you’s a tailor, like Harry. Knew my dad too, back in the day, so you’s what, ex-military?”

James didn’t so much as twitch. “That’s right. I’m afraid the exact details are classified, even now. He was very proud of you, Eggsy. He loved you very much.”

“That’s nice. So you’s gonna teach me to take care o’ myself?”

“Well, I’ll teach you the art of physical self-defense,” James clarified. “Do you know, when you’re rather emotional, you allow your grammar to worsen and your accent to thicken? It’s a bit of a tell, Eggsy.”

“Maybe. Do _you_ know that when you’s all are tryin’ to get me to do somethin’ you think I’s gonna argue with, you’s all bring up my dad? Bit of a tell,” she shot back. “And pretty shitty, too, cause yeah. I get it. Dad loved me. Not enough to not get killed, but he loved me.”

James’ face grew serious, as it so rarely did. “My apologies, Eggsy. I hadn’t realized we were doing that. But you mustn’t think of his death that way. Everything Lee did was motivated by his love for you and your mother. He was the very definition of ‘protector’. You and your mother were his whole world, and he simply wanted to make the world safer for you both.”

“Bit too big picture then, ‘cause our world was pretty small and pretty shitty after he died.” She shrugged. “Whatever. So you get to teach me how to kick arse. Does that mean I get to teach you something?”

James raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“You ever heard of free runnin’? Parkour?” She leaned back on her arms, legs swinging, exuding challenge. She liked James well enough, sure, but his overblown ‘rakish gentleman’ bit is a bit annoying, and it might be nice to kind of knock him down a bit.

“You mean all those terribly unruly youths running about using buildings as a jungle gym?”

“Yeah. I mean, as a tailor that goes all over the world, you might find it handy. Running away from all those rich, angry husbands.” She looked him up and down. “Maybe running from rich, angry wives on occasion.”

“I don’t like to limit myself,” James agreed. “Very well, we shall make a trade of it. I will teach you self defense, and you may teach me how to jump around on buildings. Shall we start?”

“Why not?”

For the next two weeks that Harry was gone, James was over every afternoon before her shift at the bar. Eggsy had to admit, she enjoyed it. James might come across as a dandy, but he knew his stuff. Her gymnastics training was coming in handy as well, since she was incredibly agile already and knew how to turn a fall into a tumble that had her back on her feet quickly.

It also helped keep her mind off of Harry’s absence. She knew damned well he wasn’t out there making a suit for anyone, and in her brief bits of spare time, she found herself dwelling on where he might be, if he was in danger, if he was seducing some femme fatale Bond girl wannabe for state secrets.

Whenever that last thought crept in, it tended to make her angry and stomp down to the basement to run on the treadmill until sweat dripped from every pore.

They were in the middle of one of her lessons when Harry returned home, two days earlier than James had said he was expected. Life being what it was, he walked in just as James kicked her in the chest and sent her onto her back with no air in her lungs.

“What in the hell is going on here?” Harry demanded, seeming to just appear out of nowhere between her and James. While she wheezed and tried to get up, Harry twisted James’ arm around his back and took him down to his knees, a knife at his throat.

“Easy there, old chum,” James said. He held his free hand out to the side peacefully. “I’ve been teaching the young lady a bit of hand to hand, with her full consent.”

Harry sent her a burning look and she nodded, rubbing her chest and trying to will her lungs into working properly again.

“That didn’t look like teaching,” Harry spat.

“Because you weren’t watching long enough.”

With a wordless snarl, Harry shoved James face first into the floor, then hurried over to Eggsy. He supported her with an arm around her middle while he rubbed her back. “Easy, Eggsy. Just try to relax. Take a deep breath in, there it is,” he crooned.

Diaphragm finally starting to work again, Eggsy drew in a deep, hitching breath and let it out again. She patted at the arm around her waist and let Harry pull her to her feet. “It’s okay,” she wheezed. “I’m okay, Harry.”

“You are not.” Harry tilted her head to better see the faint bruise on her jaw. “You’re barely breathing and bruised, and that is not the condition in which I left you.”

“I also ain’t your property,” she snipped, bristling at the proprietary words. She wasn’t a _thing_. She pushed his hands away and crossed her arms. “James has been teaching me. Yeah, I got some bruises. So fucking what? Better than another knife in the gut. You have shit timing, Harry. That’s all. I didn’t block or dodge fast enough – next time I’ll do better.”

“One doesn’t learn to fight by being beaten until you learn to duck!”

“That ain’t – fuck’s sake, Harry, that ain’t what he been doing! Think I don’t know what being beaten is? We spend the first three hours with him teaching me moves, and then we spar so I can get some practice with someone who don’t actually wanna break me.”

James picked himself up off the floor, smoothing his hair and straightening his t-shirt. “She is an apt pupil,” he said calmly. “Strong, agile, and fast. I daresay the next time some wanker with a knife wishes to do her harm, she’ll come out the better between them. Now, Eggsy, would you like me to stay and help you cram some sense in this one or are you fine on your own?”

“Oh go on. I’ll deal with him,” she promised. James nodded, collected his things, and walked out. Eggsy continued to glare. “Am I stupid, then?” she demanded.

“Wha – no! Of course not,” Harry sputtered.

“So then, I’m just sufferin’ from that, what’s it called, battered woman syndrome or sommat?”

“I have seen no such signs.”

“So then I’m just a kid, is that it? A dumb kid that don’t know how to take care of herself.” She nodded. “Got it. So what was the bloody point of you bringin’ me here? Every time I turn around, you’s arguing and pitchin’ a fit over me doing somethin’ that gets me better able to take care of myself. I gotta fight you to make choices. Don’t want me helpin’ to cook and clean in the place I live. Don’t want me getting’ a job. Don’t want me helpin’ to pay for my own upkeep. You got me checkin’ in with James when you ain’t here, like I need a fuckin’ sitter. So what, you like the idea of some helpless little girl hangin’ offa you? You said you wanted to give me a chance to get my life in order, but you keep cuttin’ my feet out from under me when I try!”

Harry stared at her, mouth gaping open a little, eyes wide. “Well fuck,” he finally said. “I have been doing that, haven’t I?” He scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly looking tired. “I’m sorry, Eggsy. That was _not_ my intention. I swear.”

“So what was your intention?”

Harry walked over to the treadmill to grab the towel draped over the side. He tossed it to her, followed by the bottle of water that was waiting in the cup holder. She wrapped the towel around her neck to catch the annoying drips of sweat running down from her hair and cracked the seal on the bottle. She gave him a pointed look as she drank. “I think you’re giving me too much credit by calling it ‘intent’. That would imply I had thought about it,” he began. “I didn’t. I do believe I have simply been reacting, which is unlike me. Overreacting, I would say. I truly have no doubt that you could walk out of here today and land on your feet. However, I also can’t help but remember the state I found you in, nor can I quite forget the sound of you screaming in pain when I moved you. So yes, I suppose you could say I have been an overprotective twat.”

Eggsy deflated, just like that. “Oh.” She cast her gaze around, a guilty little churn in her stomach. She hadn’t thought the problem was that Harry cared too much, and now she’d made him feel bad for it. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Don’t be. My behavior was unacceptable.”

“Yeah, but you wasn’t doin’ it cause you thought I was an incompetent twit.”

“No, but I still made you feel like that was the reason.”

She squinted at him as she caught herself about to argue his own good reason for it. “Wait. Are we – are we arguing about this, really? Cause I don’t think we should be arguing about this, right, we was both wrong. So we’re both gonna do better.”

Harry smiled at her. “I can certainly agree to that.”

“Good!” Eggsy stepped forward and, feeling greatly daring, threw her arms around his neck. “Hi, Harry. I’m glad you’re home. How was your trip?”

Chuckling a little, Harry hugged her back, arms snug around her middle. “Uneventful and productive. How’s school?”

“S’ good. Getting’ top marks on all my work still.” She stepped back to eye him critically for a few seconds, but there was nothing in his stance or dress to indicate that he’d gotten hurt at all. She grinned up at him. “You shoulda let me know you was comin’ home early. Found a new steak recipe I was gonna try.”

“That sounds lovely. Perhaps tomorrow? I will confess to being a bit tired. I’d like to just order takeaway.”

“Sure.” Eggsy checked the clock. “Why don’t you order? I need to shower, and then I got work at 7.”

“That works.”

Eggsy trotted upstairs. She checked her chest in the mirror as she undressed and was relieved to see nothing more than a red mark where James’ kick had connected. It probably wouldn’t even bruise. By the time she’d showered, changed, and gotten back downstairs, the delivery had arrived and Harry was signing for the bags of food. Harry was the type that had to eat takeaway on plates, so she set the table while he laid out the food. As they sat to eat, she tucked her foot under her thigh and dug in.

“I was thinking,” Harry began diffidently. “your learning to fight, to defend yourself, is of course a good idea. I would be glad to help teach you.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy raised an eyebrow. “You’s gonna spar with me, too? I mean, would you be okay doin’ that?”

“It might take a bit of an arse kick, but yes. I do _try_ to correct my mistakes, Eggsy.”

“That ain’t what I meant. An’, I mean, is carin’ about someone really a mistake?”

“The caring, no. But if the expression of it hurts the one you care about?”

Eggsy took a deep breath. “Harry. I _like_ that you care about me. I know you wasn’t trying to hurt me. I wasn’t mad about any of it til you put a knife to James’ throat. All I meant was, if it was gonna be hard for you, I don’t want you puttin’ yourself through that.” She poked him in the thigh with her bare toes. “I care about you too, y’know.”

“I know, my dear. Else I think you may have smothered me in my sleep, considering the overprotective nonsense I’ve been spewing.” He reached down and squeezed her ankle. “So yes, I’ll be okay with sparring with you. In fact, I think it’s a good idea. The more people one practices with, the better, as continually sparring with the same person can become predictable, and your skill doesn’t really improve.”

“That makes sense. Thanks, Harry.” She giggled a bit at a sudden thought. “I made a trade with him, actually. Come spring, when the ice and crap is gone, I’m gonna teach him free running.”

“I didn’t know you engaged in that hobby.”

“Oh yeah. Once I had to quit gymnastics, it was the best way to keep up the skill. It’s loads of fun. Would you wanna come too?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude….”

“Don’t be daft, you wouldn’t be. ‘Sides, I bet you’ll be better at it than him.”

“That’s a given. Well, if it wouldn’t be intrusive, then yes.”

Eggsy was beaming the whole night.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Adding Harry into the mix with her fighting lessons was interesting. He and James often dissolved into odd little arguments about the best techniques to teach her, given her height, range, strength, and flexibility. More often than not, it seemed they were verbally dancing around something, or rather, some _one_ , and what that someone would recommend. In the end, usually what ended up happening is they would let her practice both techniques and see which one worked best for her. At first, she’d thought there was some genuine acrimony between them. Then she started to wonder if it was her own abilities that were the issue. Finally, she reached the conclusion that they simply enjoyed bickering and simply left them to it.

April rolled along with Eggsy finishing the work from her missed Year 10 and moving smoothly into Year 11’s. It also brought her 19th birthday. James arranged for an extra long call with her mother for the day and Michelle was, thankfully, in a good mood. The treatment for the heroin addiction Dean had foisted on her was going to be long, and include depression and irritability, so too many of her calls to her mother had ended in tears or swearing. This call, however, was wonderful, and Eggsy was able to natter on with her for a full hour like they used to do when she was younger, before Dean.

James _also_ presented her with a set of throwing knives in honor of the next stage of her training, which was nice, but the call was better.

Harry presented her with a brand new iPod touch and a gift card for the music store so she could start her collection of music. Eggsy had been going back and forth on getting one for herself, returning multiple times to the Apple website and dithering over the price, not quite able to justify it to herself. She didn’t have bills to speak of, but she was saving her money against future need. Whether she went into the military or university, she would want money squirreled away. And certainly once Michelle was released, her mother would need help getting on her feet until she could find a new job.

Eggsy tried to protest the gift, blinking back unaccustomed tears and pointing out all he had already done. Harry had just given her that gentle, chiding look he got when she was being rude and pointed out that birthday gifts were something altogether different. She took the hint and just thanked him with a long hug – her birthday gift to herself.

Her other birthday gift to herself was a night out with her mates. They texted all the time, but other than the aborted meetup with Brandon, she hadn’t seen any of them since she’d been stabbed. With her birthday falling on a Thursday that year, they agreed to head out to a club that Saturday. She apparently made a face as she was agreeing to the plans, as Harry questioned her on it. She finished finalizing the plans before explaining.

“I’m not a fan of nightclubs. When I was fifteen, we snuck into one and I got roofied.” Harry's jaw dropped and she hastened to reassure him. “Nothing happened! Brandon and Jamal found me before anything could happen, and got me and Sarah out of there. But it wasn’t a nice first experience with clubs, so I’m not a huge fan. But they’s wanting to cut loose a bit, seeing as it’s been ages since we hung out. Ain’t like it’s gonna suck or nothing. I like music, even club music, and this way we get to be loud without bothering nobody.” Her grin sharpened a bit. “I ain’t a big drinker, an’ I’m much smarter these days. An’ thanks to you and James, I should be able to take care of anyone who gets stupid.”

Harry’s face went through several odd contortions before he finally blew out a breath. “Please take your mobile with you? If something _does_ happen –“

“Relax, Harry. Weren’t planning to leave without it,” she promised. He relaxed a little. “I ain’t planning to drink anythin’ but soda, an’ I don’t touch anythin’ I ain’t had my eye on the whole time. Once bitten, yeah?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

“I’ll give you this one. I do the same thing whenever Sarah goes out – sometimes she don’t have the sense god gave little green apples. Here.” She shot off a quick text to Harry’s mobile. “That’s the club we’re going to. Unless something happens, we’ll probably close it down.” She made a face. “Brandon is bringin’ his new bird, an’ apparently she loves clubbing.”

“Thank you,” he said, waving his mobile. “I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

She did not have fun. It started out oddly, with Brandon’s girl giving her a weird up and down look while she was hugging her friends. The girl, Lizzie, was dressed in club gear, tight black mini dress with boots that went up to the thigh. She wore giant hoops that flashed when the light hit them, and had done her makeup all dark and dramatic. In contrast, Eggsy wore jeans – tight ones, since she was ‘out’, and a clinging long sleeved shirt and a pair of Converse. Sarah was a bit in between, with tight jeans and a fitted shirt with a plunging neckline and a pair of sparkly heels. The guys wore their usual adidas and jeans. Eggsy wasn’t sure why she got the odd look, but shrugged it off.

Then the rest of the night, as her mates were throwing back booze and dancing to the hiphop, Lizzie kept climbing all over Brandon like he was a jungle gym, interrupting Eggsy whenever she started talking about something, and occasionally mentioning how boring Eggsy was for sticking to soda all night.

About three hours in, Sarah tagged her for a trip to the loo. With the door shut behind them, the volume dropped considerably. Eggsy took her turn in a stall, then took her time washing her hands until Sarah was finished and adjusting her makeup. She met her friend’s eyes in the mirror and Sarah paused in reapplying her gloss. “Not having fun, Eggs?”

“Ain’t bad, I guess. It’s fantastic to see all you’s again. I just – what the fuck is up with Brandon’s girl?”

Sarah turned to lean against the sink, lips quirked in amusement. “You can’t tell? She’s jealous.”

Eggsy blinked. “Of what?”

“You. She thinks Brandon has a thing for you. I can’t blame her, she weren’t there all these years, so she don’t know nothing. But he’s been going on about finally getting to hang with you again, y’know, getting the gang back together. And then you’s show up, an’ you ain’t gotten all dressed up or nothing but you’s still one’a the hottest babes in there. Like, you din’t even do your hair, an’ it still looks amazing. An’ you dance better’n pretty much anybody. So she’s jealous.”

“She thinks me’n Brandon would – that’s just not happening. He’s me mate! We ain’t like that, ain’t ever gonna be like that. Fucks sake, I known alla you’s since before puberty, it’d be like fucking my brother.” Eggsy shuddered a little.

“Well, she ain’t no rocket scientist or nothing. You know Brandon always ends up with the dim ones. Or the crazy ones. Remember Jessica?”

“Oh, fuck me, don’t remind me,” Eggsy groaned, half laughing. “She put his hair in a scrapbook! Who does that?”

“The crazy ones,” Sarah said promptly. They both laughed, remembering the debacle that was the four months Brandon had dated that girl. Sarah grew serious then. “If you ain’t having fun, we can go somewhere else. This is for your birthday, after all. Besides, it’s not like we’re really getting to talk or nothing.”

“Yeah, but you’s all having fun.”

“We can club any time. You live so far away these days, it’d be nice to actually get to talk.” Sarah straightened up, decision made. “Fuck it, we’s going. There’s a pub down the block. Pricier than the Prince, but it’ll be quieter and we can catch up proper.”

Decision made, Sarah towed her out of the loo and back over to the rest. Lizzie protested and pouted but was outvoted by the rest of them, and they all made their way down to the pub.

It was a bit on the crowded side on a Saturday, but the crowd reminded her of the bar she worked at, a mix of dressy and casual. They were able to snag a booth, and Eggsy let herself indulge in a pint. Spirits lifting, she started to catch up proper, telling them about her school work (“Can’t believe you’re enjoying school, nerd!” Jamal hooted) and a few of the more entertaining stories of her job. Brandon had gotten a job at a shipping company, and was thinking about getting the training for his C1 license so he could be a driver, which made more money. Sarah was looking into cosmetology classes, and Jamal had snagged a job at a grocery.

Lizzie, it seemed, was in no hurry to join the working class.

The pub closed down at 2, and Eggsy wouldn’t let them linger, knowing how annoying it could be when all you wanted to do was go home and a bunch of twats kept saying ‘just a few more til I finish me drink, luv!’. They spilled out onto the street and Eggsy started scanning for cabs.

She spotted Rottie instead, idling in his car and watching the pub doors. “What the fuck?” she hissed.

Brandon, Jamal, and Sarah all looked at where she was staring and drew closer. “How the fuck did they find us?” Brandon hissed.

“No fuckin’ clue, bruv. This is shit. They’s gonna be following us all again,” Jamal said. Rottie was grinning sadistically at them. He pointed at Eggsy and made a finger gun at her. She went cold. If they caught her, she wasn’t in for just a beating – they would kill her. Suddenly all that training with James and Harry didn’t seem like such a big deal.

“Who cares?” Lizzie said lightly. “Dean always has the best stuff around, an’ we’ll get all sorts of freebies for lettin’ ‘im know where ‘is kid is.”

As one, the four of them turned to stare at her in horror. She widened her eyes and stepped back a bit. “What? What’s the big deal? She’s making good money, she can pay him back what she owes,” she defended.

“You dumb slag,” Sarah hissed, digging her fingers into Lizzie’s arm. “She don’t owe Dean no money! He wants to kill her for refusing to run product an’ getting’ her mum away from him! An’ now they’ll be after us, an’ they ain’t gonna believe we don’ know where she’s crashing. Fuck, Brandon, why can’t you never find one with a brain!”

Eggsy pulled out her mobile and dialed. “Hey, Harry? Could use a bit o’ advice, like. So remember that day at the Prince?”

“Vividly,” Harry said dryly.

“So remember the tall guy? We’s outside a pub a couple blocks from the club an’ he’s in his car staring right at us. Brandon’s new girl –“

“Ex!” Brandon snapped.

“ – ex girlfriend tipped ‘em off thinkin’ I owed ‘em money and she’d be getting free nose candy for the trouble. He, ah, may have threatened to shoot me.”

“I see.” Harry’s voice was grave-cold. “Can you get somewhere crowded?”

“Club is still open.”

“Head back there. I’ll come collect you as soon as I can.”

“He’ll follow us back to yours,” she warned.

“I highly doubt that.” He hung up.

“Right. Got someone comin’ to give us a ride. We’s gonna wait back in the club, nice an’ crowded, til he gets here.” She jerked her head. “Let’s go.” They started back towards the club, keeping an eye on Rottie, who paced them in his car. Eggsy was so focused on keeping an eye on him that she almost didn’t see Poodle in time when he lunged out of an alley at her. The other four followed him, moving to surround the group.

“Muggsy, Muggsy, Muggsy, Dean really wants a word with you,” Poodle taunted. “You gots his property, an’ ‘e wants it back.”

“I ain’t got nothin’ of Dean’s, so just fuck right off,” she snapped.

“Your mum, you stupid cunt,” he snapped.

“She ain’t his property! An’ if he thinks I’ll _ever_ let him near her again, he’s even dumber than I thought – and considerin’ I can’t figure out how he walks an’ breathes at the same time, that’s pretty fuckin’ dumb.” Brandon and Jamal kept shifting, trying to stay between the guys surrounding them and the girls. Even Lizzie had wised up enough to realize her ass was in trouble, too. And Rottie’s car was still idling, and she knew he carried a gun. Even if something had happened to the one he’d had at the Prince, she was sure he’d have gotten another by now. They were in a nicer area, one that attracted its share of tourists, so cops would respond faster than they were used to, so she doubted he wanted to use it there. The goal was to separate Eggsy and get her into that car. Their best bet was still to get to the club and wait for Harry. They just needed a chance to run.

Eggsy lunged forward suddenly, snapping her fist into Poodle’s throat. He wheeled, choking. She didn’t pause and snapped to the side, drive her foot into Shep’s knee. He collapsed with a bitten off scream, clutching his now broken knee. “Run!” She grabbed Sarah’s hand and took off, looking back only to make sure the boys were following. She heard the engine rev, and more pounding footsteps than Sarah and the boys would account for but didn’t look back. Sarah in her heels was having trouble with the running and Eggsy had to shift her grip to around her friend’s waist to help her keep her balance. Jamal came up on her other side and just picked her up. They rounded the corner towards the front of the club and ran right into a milling crowd, out having a smoke. Eggsy shoved her friends through, ignoring the outraged swearing, until they reached the doorway. The bouncer eyed them suspiciously. “We had a quiet night, and I ain’t looking to change that,” he told them.

“We’re just waiting here for a ride,” Eggsy explained. “Buncha guys were looking to start something, so we’s just wanna stay in public til my friend gets here to pick us up. Swear down, we ain’t looking to cause trouble.”

The bouncer scowled but nodded. “You wait out here, then. Got the cops on speed dial, though, so you mind your manners.”

“Thanks, bruv.” Eggsy urged her friends up against the wall and they all leaned there, catching their breath. She pulled out her phone and shot a quick text to Harry, letting him know they were at the club but waiting outside with the smokers. She slid her phone back in her pocket and checked over her friends. “You guys okay?”

“Fuck, Eggs, where did you learn to do that?” Sarah demanded in a harsh whisper. “Ain’t never seen you throw a punch like that b’fore. That was sick!”

“Told ya an old army mate of my dad’s was putting me up. He taught me a couple moves, in case I got in a tight spot.”

“Nice,” Jamal whistled. “Maybe I should rethink the army.”

“You hate guns, bruv. An’ you hate mornings even more,” Eggsy laughed.

“Just shut the fuck up, Lizzie,” Brandon snapped, dragging all eyes towards him. Lizzie was glaring at him, tears on her face. “You’s the one that got us into this, all cause you wanted some free junk. We’s done. After tonight, I ain’t never wanna see you again.”

“I can’t believe you’re dumpin’ me for her!”

“We’s been datin’ a month, an’ Eggsy’s been my mate since primary,” Brandon told her furiously. “I ain’t dumpin’ you for her, I’m dumpin’ you cause you’s just about got us killed! Hell, maybe you should jus’ go on an’ offer yourself up to Dean as a replacement for Eggsy’s mum – that’d solve everyone’s problem! He’d keep you hyped up on whatever you wanted and leave us the fuck alone.”

“Well I wouldn’a called ‘em if you’d just stayed at the club like I wanted. We was having fun, but _she_ is fuckin’ lame and got bored, so we all had to go an’ be bored. There weren’t no music or dancin’ or nothin’ at the pub.”

“Fucks sake, just shut up. Shoulda left you behind.” Brandon turned his back on her and checked on Sarah before looking at Eggsy. “It gonna be that tall bloke?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.”

“He’s gonna kill me,” Brandon moaned.

“Shut up, he is not.” Eggsy thought about it. “He might try lockin’ me in the house though. He fusses,” she explained.

“Yeah, but you like him,” Sarah sang. “An’ you like his fussing.”

“Fucks sake, keep it down,” she hissed. “Don’t you let on, he’ll be impossible! An’ it ain’t – I can take care of m’self, yeah? Just nice that someone wants to.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that. ‘Sides, you fuss right back. I knows you, Eggsy,” Sarah winked. “You’s a born fusser. Surprised you ain’t takin’ him lunch or sommat every day.”

Eggsy shifted uncomfortably. Sarah grinned, triumphant. “Oi! Knock it off, you. I ain’t takin’ him lunch. I’m just – home, right? So maybe I took over makin’ dinner. ‘S just fair.”

“Sure, Eggs. Whatevs you say,” Jamal snickered. Their brief good humor died when Rottie’s car drove slowly round the corner and cruised along in front of the club. They ducked down in an effort to hide behind the smokers, but Eggsy wasn’t sure how successful they were. She waited til the car was further down the street before straightening and scanning the crowd. Poodle and two of the others were just at the corner of the building, at the edge of the milling club goers, obviously scanning for them. She crouched again with a curse. Once again subdued, they waiting in tense silence until Eggsy’s mobile chimed.

“Heya Harry. You almost here?”

“Turning the corner now. How are you?”

“We’s good. Bouncer didn’t want us in, but he’s letting us wait by the door. Din’t want trouble inside. Poodle an’ a couple of the others is still hangin’ about, an’ Rottie drove by a few minutes ago. Prolly gonna circle around an’ come back. They’s just gotta wait til the club closes, right?”

“A simple enough plan for even their feeble minds,” Harry agreed. “I’m here.”

Eggsy stood up and looked past her camouflaging smokers to see a sleek black Audi S3 pull up to the curb. Harry made a quick gesture at her from behind the wheel. “Right, he’s here. Let’s go.”

“Ain’t enough room for all of us,” Brandon said, giving a hard look to Lizzie.

“Shut it, mate. You know you’s ain’t gonna leave her here for that lot. Just. Sarah, sit in Jamal’s lap or somethin’, yeah? You’s the smallest.” Eggsy led the way to the car and ushered the other four into the back seat. Sarah, as suggested, perched uncomfortably on Jamal’s lap in the middle, while Lizzie ended up crammed up against the door. Eggsy slid into the front seat, running her hands appreciatively over the leather interior. “Rescued in style.”

“I aim to please,” Harry said dryly. He glanced up at the rearview mirror. “Now then, I’ve arranged for the four of you to stay at a hotel for the evening. By tomorrow, it should be safe enough for you to return home.”

“They ain’t gonna give up that quick,” Brandon argued.

“Under normal circumstances, no. I may have sent an anonymous tip to the police, however. Given the nature of their occupations, I’m sure there is plenty of evidence waiting to be found. The police now have a reason to look,” Harry said firmly, tone not inviting further discussion.

Harry drove them in silence to a chain hotel, nice but not super fancy. Eggsy climbed out when they did to give her friends hugs. “Sorry ‘bout all this,” she muttered. “If I hadn’t pissed Dean off so bad –“

“Fuck that noise, Eggsy. You’s had to get outta there, an’ you had t’ take your mum, too,” Brandon snapped. Jamal and Sarah nodded agreement. He cast Lizzie a filthy look. “If I had better taste in girls, this wouldn’ta happened. You just stay safe, yeah? Let’s hope your boy is right, an’ the cops pinch ‘em. Least they’d be outta our hair for a few years if they do.”

Eggsy nodded and slid back into the car to wait while Harry went inside to get them all checked in. He was out a few minutes later, sliding easily behind the wheel. He was silent as he started the car and pointed them towards home. Eggsy traced the stitching of her seat, casting little looks over at him. “Harry, you pissed at me?”

“What on earth for?”

“This whole mess,” she said quietly. “I mean. You keep getting dragged into it. Get’s a bit much, right?”

“Eggsy, this was not your fault. It’s the fault of Dean and his minions for being too stupid to take a hint,” Harry said firmly. “They have stomped on my last nerve, true, but that’s on them, not you. So no, I am not pissed, or at least not at you. You did very well tonight, actually. You called as soon as you noticed the problem, followed instructions and kept your friends safe until backup arrived.”

Eggsy brightened. “I got to punch one of ‘em,” she confessed. “They was waiting for us in an alley an’ kinda cut us off. Punched Poodle in the throat an’ I’m pretty sure I broke Shep’s knee with that kick you taught me.”

“Did you enjoy that?”

She scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “Kinda did, yeah. Was shit scared, no lie, but it still felt good. Had to make a hole so’s we could run. Wouldn’ta been so bad if I was alone or even if it was just the guys, but. Sarah ain’t a scrapper, an’ she had heels on an’ all.”

“If you’d have been alone, what would you have done?”

Eggsy thought about it. “Well, it wouldn’ta happened if I was alone. But if they found me on accident? I’da rabbited – they ain’t too fast, an’ they ain’t agile, an’ buildings over there is close together like. Coulda scaled a drainpipe easy as anything and skipped out easy. I done it before, ‘s why they always try to get around me first.” She grinned. “’course, now I know how to make an opening to get out, yeah?”

“You do indeed,” Harry approved. “After tonight, however, I shall make quite certain you needn’t worry about those particular individuals again.”

“That sounds – Harry, you ain’t gonna kill ‘em or nothin’, are you?” she blurted.

“Unfortunately not. That would draw too much attention,” Harry said, sounding honestly regretful. “No, I shall simply be providing the authorities with a wealth of evidence that will put them away for the rest of their lives.” He pulled the car into a garage, though not the one attached to his house. James was waiting, dressed as Harry was in a full suit, and holding a glass of dark amber liquid. He opened Eggsy’s door before she could. “Is it taken care of?” Harry asked as he stepped out himself.

“Certainly. The police should be rounding them up as we speak,” James answered.

“Lovely.”

James pulled her into the light and looked her over critically. “How are you, my dear? Holding up alright?”

“Yeah, o’ course. Mind, I ain’t any fonder of the club scene after all this but it coulda gone a lot worse.” She threw a glance at the car. “That yours?”

“Indeed. Harry so rarely drives, he’s never bothered with a car of his own.”

Eggsy tried batting her eyes. “Wouldn’t mind takin’ it for a spin some time.”

James laughed and pinched her cheek. “Not a chance, dear girl. I expect such an experience would give me my first grey hairs.”

Eggsy snorted and rolled her eyes at Harry. “ _First_? Should we tell him?”

“Bad form to crush a man’s spirit, Eggsy,” Harry chided. His lips twitched as James squawked indignantly, hands flailing dramatically while also never spilling a drop of his drink. Harry unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “We should get home. The adrenaline will wear off soon and you’ll want bed when that happens.”

“Already starting to,” Eggsy admitted.

“James, thank you for the loan. I’m sure I’ll see you at the shop Monday.”

“Quite. Good night, Eggsy.”

“Night, James.”

Eggsy tugged the jacket a little closer as she walked beside Harry. She hadn’t bothered with a jacket when she’d headed out, clubs was always so hot. Since none of them smoked, she hadn’t expected to spend much time outside. She still found herself shivering a bit, and she knew it was at least a little bit from the adrenaline crash as it was the chilly night air. Harry noticed, of course he did, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders to tuck her in close to his side.

“You really did very well tonight,” Harry murmured. “You kept your head, kept your friends from panicking. I’m very proud of you, Eggsy.”

Eggsy tilted her face up to meet his eyes and swallowed. The urge to lean up, to wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself up for a kiss was almost overwhelming. Then he tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead, and it was so paternal that she choked the urge down and smiled instead. “Thanks, Harry. I guess I’m pretty proud of me, too.”

“Good.”

Later, when Eggsy was tucked up in bed and the house was quiet and settled, she thought back on that moment. Harry wasn’t typically all that paternal with her. He wasn’t her father and he’d never really tried to be. _James_ was closer to fatherly with her than Harry was, for all Harry had to actively reign in his overprotective urges. He’d never tucked her hair like that, and aside from that one kiss on the head that day in the Prince, never done that before either. She was almost positive that Harry had been looking at her lips, and he had to have seen – well. She probably wasn’t too subtle about what she’d been thinking right then, so the sudden father act was on purpose. So he either didn’t want her like that, or did but not enough. She punched her pillow in frustration. What the fuck was wrong with her? She finally finds a bloke that she’d want to be with for more than a tumble, and it has to be some older, posh guy with nobility and honor oozing out his pores!

Harry was never going to want her like that, not as she was. She was his responsibility right now. Hell, maybe he _couldn’t_ be with her like that, with his top secret job and all. Which would mean that, no matter what she did, no matter how successful she became at whatever she decided to do with her life, he never _would_ be.

With that thoroughly depressing thought weighing on her mind, she pulled the covers over her head and willed herself into sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

In the days after her fucked up birthday outing, her friends kept sending her links to news articles that followed the arrest of seven men from the estates for drugs, assaults, and weapons charges. She gleefully printed out the one that detailed the still not fully healed injuries of the leader of the group and speculating on the origin of the crippling injuries perhaps being related to a drug deal gone bad. Apparently Dean was unlikely to have full use of that hand and arm again. She showed Harry the article and pointed out that particular line. “I hope it aches like a _bitch_ in the damp,” she said gleefully. Harry’s returning smile was more than a little bloodthirsty.

Spring gave way to summer. As promised, the free running lessons began. They couldn’t both always be there, as one or the other were often ‘seeing overseas clients’, but it was fine. They were both fit enough to pick up the acrobatic moves well. They progressed quickly from easier, ground level architecture to more and more dangerous terrain. By summer’s end, the three of them (sometimes five, when Brandon and Jamal could get time off from their jobs to join) could frequently be found scampering around various parts of town, challenging themselves and each other to more and more daring feats of agility and strength.

The onset of fall, with its chill rain, saw James leaving for an ‘extended fitting’ somewhere, and Eggsy’s first in person visit with her mother. Again borrowing James’ car, Harry drove her the three hours to a facility in the country. It was clearly a converted manor house, big and white and sprawling, with well-tended grounds and gardens.

Her mum looked _healthy_. No longer half starved, hair full and shining, though shorter than Eggsy could remember it being in years, skin aglow with a healthy tan, and eyes blessedly, completely clear. Eggsy flew into her arms and felt her mum clutching her back just as tightly. “Mum, mum, you look fantastic, I love your hair, it’s so pretty!”

“Oh, Eggsy, babes, I’m so glad to see you!” Michelle pushed her back a bit, looking her up and down. “Are you okay? You look good, babes, look at you!” Michelle cupped her cheeks. “My beautiful girl, you’s so fit! Not a bruise on you, an’ look at them jeans fittin’ so good!” Michelle hugged her tightly again. Eventually they managed to make it to the sofa, a plush comfortable thing, and Eggsy just leaned into her mother’s arms, head on her shoulder. “How are you really, baby?”

“I’m good, mum. It’s going so good. Amost done with school, yeah? I’ll have my degree before Christmas! An’ the job is good too, got some decent cash saved up. I’m actually,” Eggsy laughed for a second. “I’m actually trying to decide between the army and university, cause I’ll have a real chance at either of ‘em when I’m done, I just know it.”

Michelle’s face creased in instant worry. “I don’t like the thought of you’s in the army, babes. Look what it done to your dad!”

“Mum.” Eggsy sat up and squeezed her hands. “The army didn’t do nothing to dad. Shit happens, right? He wanted to protect people, help people. I think I’d like to do the same. Somehow. Signin’ up for the army ain’t a death sentence, if that’s the way I wanna go.”

Michelle looked away, chewing her lip in the way she did when she was upset and trying not to cry. Time was her lips were always chapped and cracked from it. Finally she nodded. “I know, babes. I just – you’re so much like your da, I can’t imagine what I’d do if I lost you.”

“Well, you ain’t gotta worry about that. Not right now, at least. I’m safe as houses. An’ if I do enlist, you can bet it won’t be easy for anyone to take me out – we Unwins are tougher’n most people think!”

“You are,” Michelle agreed.

“You are, too, mum. Look at you. Look at all Dean tried to turn you into, an’ here you are, giving him a big ‘fuck you’ an’ throwin’ off all his shit,” Eggsy said fiercely. “An’ look at where he is, rottin’ in jail for the rest o’ his miserable life! They all are. We win, mum.”

“Finally,” Michelle agreed. She looked away and Eggsy could see tears standing in her eyes. “I got somethin’ to say, babes. I am so, so sorry for Dean. For the last several years, for puttin’ you in danger –“

“Mum!”

“No, let me finish.” Michelle turned back to her. “I should have seen what he was sooner. Soon as he started slipping me junk, I should have grabbed you an’ run an’ never looked back. You lost so much cause o’ me, cause o’ my fear an’ weakness, an’ you can’t ever get that back. I know that. I am so proud of you. Of how strong you are, how brave and smart you are. You been saving me over an’ over again the last years, an’ yourself while you’s at it. I love you, an’ all I want is for you t’be happy, babes. I know whatever you do, you’ll be amazin’, cause you’s already amazin’, and I’m lucky I got to be your mum.”

Eggsy wiped her cheeks. “Mum. You got no idea, do you? Dean is a snake,” she whispered. “An’ he slithered in before we knew what he was. You kept me safe from him, over’n over, keepin’ him happy, an’ I know you didn’t like climbin’ all over ‘im like that. An’ look at you now, healthy an’ gettin’ better every day, takin’ yourself back. If I’m amazin’, it’s cause I learned it from _you_ , an’ don’t you ever forget that.”

They both rather cried all over each other then, but it felt good. Desperate for a distraction, Eggsy started talking about school, though her mother knew all about it already from their calls. She talked about her job a bit, and then talked about the parkour from the summer, and how well Harry and James had picked it up. Her mum seemed to perk up at the mention of James, so Eggsy threw a few extra stories in there about him than she might have otherwise, just to see the hint of a smile and the bashful way her mum looked just to the side of Eggsy’s face.

“He’s such a nice man, so dashin’,” her mum said. “He comes to see me, y’know.”

“He’s mentioned a couple of visits,” Eggsy said casually.

“Oh, he’s usually up once a week or so, dependin’ on work. He knew your father. It’s good of him to look in on me, ain’t it.”

Eggsy filed the information away and let her mum ramble on about the dashing James.

They got to spend the whole afternoon together and it was the best one Eggsy could remember for years. Visiting hours ended just before dinner, though, so Eggsy hugged her mother tightly, promised to call again soonest, and went to join find Harry, who had been waiting patiently in the immaculate lobby reading a book. He smiled when he saw her wide happy grin, and frowned when he noticed the trace of dried tears, but Eggsy just looped her arm through his and walked out.

She started paying far more attention after that. Once James returned, she took note of how often he mentioned her mother, how often her mother mentioned James during their calls, and then made a point while she was sparring with him to let him know just how very much she had learned by kicking his arse damn near into the mat. Harry sat on the side, lips pursed, as she helped James to his feet, then used the grip on his hand to yank him close. “I don’t give a fuck about your job,” she said pleasantly. “Or you knowin’ my dad, or who else you know. If you fuck my mum about, I will end you. Cause I’ve had a belly full of men doing that to ‘er, an’ I ain’t standing for it no more. So’s if you ain’t serious, or if there’s some reason you _can’t_ be serious, you’d best be making that clear to her like a proper fuckin’ gentleman. You get me?”

James looked down on her, customary smirk wiped from his face. “You, my dear, are utterly terrifying. I get you.”

“Good. Now go away. Harry’s going to help me with my knife throwin’ a bit.” She smiled sweetly. “Wouldn’ wanna miss an’ accidently plant one in your arse.” James saluted her, grabbed his towel, and left after giving Harry a clap on the shoulder for “Good luck!”

Harry cocked his eyebrow at her. “Was that entirely necessary?”

“Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’.

“Well. It was a lovely demonstration of your skill level, at any rate.”

“Yes.” Eggsy looked up the stairs where James had left. “I don’t think he’s a bad man, or that he’d mean to mess mum about. But mum – before Dean, there was others. All of ‘em after just one thing, ‘cause mum was always fit. But mum came with baggage, so they never stayed.” She gave Harry a wry grin. She had been the baggage, and it had never mattered how well she behaved, not many men want to raise a dead man’s child. “Dean got as far as he did ‘cause he was nice to us both. She’s clawing her way back, now. From what he done to her. An’ I can see how she feels about James when she talks about him. If he keeps it friends, she’ll be good. If he let’s her think there could be more an’ then don’t or can’t follow through?”

“He won’t lead her on. He never would have done so intentionally, of course, but he will certainly consider his actions now.”

“All I wanted.” She gestured at the throwing knives laid out, dropping the subject. Harry obligingly came up behind her and began to help refine her throwing technique.

Fall gave way to winter, complete with miserable, dreary sleet and freezing rain. In mid November, Harry had to leave for his longest trip yet. James continued to pop round to practice with her, though he admitted that Harry was better, and she had reached the point where her skills were beginning to pull ahead of his. He started teaching her French then, building on her extremely rusty basics that she’d retained from school. She taught him sleight of hand and pickpocketing, or at least, she helped him refine the crude technique that he already employed, which consisted of dramatic distraction rather than subtle misdirection.

As November turned into December, she had a mild panic attack and found herself knocking on his door at half past 11 at night, having just realized that Christmas was coming up, with no clue what to get Harry for the holiday.

“I very much doubt he expects anything,” James attempted to reassure her.

It didn’t help. She plopped down on his leather sofa, bottom lip trembling. “Oh, fuck. Really? I’ve been – I’ve been that selfish he don’t think I’d even – “

“No no! It’s not that, my dear. Harry is simply – most of us aren’t terribly sentimental. Er, down at the shop. We don’t really exchange gifts, and I believe most of Harry’s family passed on quite some time ago. It is simply not an expectation of him of anyone.”

Her face hardened. “That just makes it more important that I get him something, then.” Her resolve crumbled again, just that quickly. “But what? He’s got, like, everything, yeah? An’ ain’t nothing he got needs upgrading, ‘cause he’s got the best quality.” She scrubbed her hand over her face.

“Eggsy, you’re over thinking this, dear girl. Harry will be pleased with anything you choose to get him, simply because you thought to do so.”

“Oh yeah? So’s if give him a new pair of adidas like I’d do for Brandon, he’d be happy with that?”

James opened his mouth, paused, then closed it with a reluctant nod. “Okay, point. Well then, consider Harry. What does he like?”

“Lot’s o’ stuff I can’t really afford, even if I drain my savings, which he’d kick my arse for doing,” she said promptly. “And also butterflies, apparently. He’s got hundreds of ‘em in shadowboxes all over…the…house.” She stared at James. “You got a basement here, bruv?”

“I do. Why?”

“Can I have a corner of it? Just for a bit?”

“That can be arranged. What for?”

“When you an’ Harry was poking through my records, did it say anythin’ about me – painting?”

James tilted his head as he thought. “No, actually. Not that I recall. You had top marks in your art classes, but there weren’t any notes in particular about skill. _Do_ you paint?”

“I did when I was younger, but I loved gymnastics more, so. Might be a bit rusty, but with me done with school an’ all, I got extra time to brush up.” She chewed her lip as she thought the idea over.

“The idea has merit,” James encouraged.

“But it’s been so long…an’ what if the teachers was being nice, just cause I could make a flower look like a flower? That don’t mean I’m actually _good_ at it.”

James stood and left the room. When he returned he had a pad of paper and a pencil and dumped both in her lap. “Draw something. Draw a daisy. There’s a vast difference between drawing something that can be recognized as a flower and actually drawing _well_. I promise to be honest.”

Still chewing on her lip, Eggsy nodded and put pencil to paper. James didn’t stand over his shoulder as she drew. He pulled out his laptop instead and quietly tapped at the keys. After about half an hour, she doubtfully handed the paper over. James studied it for a few moments. “It’s been a while since I seen a flower up close,” she said nervously. “But yeah. It’s shite, ain’t it?”

“Quite the opposite, in fact. If you can do half so well with paint as you do with pencil, Harry would be extremely pleased with a painting.” James gave her a grin. “You are quite the renaissance woman, aren’t you?”

“You really think so?” Eggsy shifted to look at the picture she’d drawn again.

“I do. As you said, it’s been some time since you’ve seen a daisy, not to mention ordinary pencil doesn’t allow for much detailing. The petals grow in a more spiraling pattern than you’ve drawn them, but I put that down to a memory issue, not a talent issue. Paint him something, Eggsy. I promise you, Harry will love it.” He flipped his computer around to show her the screen. “I’ve ordered in a wide variety of colors and canvases for you to choose from. Brushes and an easel as well.”

Eggsy felt butterflies start up in her stomach again, and nearly laughed at the irony. Of course she was going to paint a butterfly. She’d have a wander around Harry’s house, do a bit of research, and paint one of them for him.

The next three days were filled with her making a meticulous examination of Harry’s collection of butterflies and comparing the list to what the internet told her were the rarest and/or most beautiful species. She finally settled on the blue morpho, as it was easily the most striking of the ones that Harry didn’t have. Which then gave her the issue of finding the right shade of metallic blue – oddly, the collection of paints that James had purchased didn’t include metallic paints. In the end, she had to mix the color herself.

She practiced first with the other paints, trying to get used to using paint brushes on canvas, which she’d never done before. Youtube helped her again, with various art tutorials that helped her learn to best prepare the canvas so the colors wouldn’t fade or dull. James’ basement sprouted a stack of smaller canvases, with various butterflies as she practiced. By the twelfth, she finally felt ready to start on Harry’s present. The date had her feeling a bit of pressure – even with just her shifts at work, skipping her practices with James, she felt like there just wasn’t enough time to do a good enough job. And Harry could return any day, which would make working on it difficult. James ended up calling her off work, claiming she had the flu, to give her extra time.

When she finally stepped back from it, she couldn’t tell if she loved or hated it. From one second to the next her mind changed, thinking it was beautiful then utter garbage. Before she could give into the urge to set it on fire, she made herself turn and go upstairs where she collapsed into the chair opposite James at his dining room table.

“Done, then?”

“I dunno. It’s either done or trash, I can’t fuckin’ tell. Why did I think this was a good idea? I got the cash, I could get him, like, a cashmere scarf or somethin’! That’s posh, right?”

James rolled his eyes and got up. “Eat something, Eggsy.” He nodded at the food on the table and the second place setting, then walked out.

Eggsy picked at the steak and asparagus, stomach too knotted to be very hungry. James had, very indulgently, stayed out of the basement the entire time she’d been working. The giant grandfather clock in the corner informed her that it took half an hour before James came back.

He resumed his seat opposite her and just stared for a few moments. Eggsy fidgeted. “My dear,” he began quietly, “if you put that in the trash, I shall never forgive you. It is exquisite, and I am personally not even that fond of butterflies. Most of them are, in fact. What do you intend to do with the smaller ones?”

“Dunno, they was just – I had to practice. Never really didn much with paint before, just a couple for school. Was gonna bin them, I expect. Do you really mean it? It ain’t rubbish?”

“Eggsy, I intend to take that in and have it properly framed. I promise you, Harry is going to love it,” James assured her. “Not simply because you thought to create it for him, but because it is amazing. The detailing is unbelievable, and the way the light reflects off of the wings makes it seem as though it could take flight. I promise you, it is anything but rubbish. If you chose, I believe you could make a very comfortable living with that talent.”

Relieved, Eggsy shoved cold asparagus into her mouth. “Doubt I’d do that. That’s an awful lot of work. Wouldn’t do it for just anyone.”

“It was but a thought. Here, let me reheat this.” James popped both plates in the microwave for a couple minutes, and they finished eating their now rather rubbery steak and asparagus in silence.

Eggsy returned home and to work. Luckily, she still looked tired enough that her boss believe the flu story, and Eggsy soothed her guilt with the fact that she’d never called off before, and it had only been the one night.

In contrast to Harry’s gift, everyone else was easy. She got her mum a cashmere sweater, a set of expensive makeup brushes for Sarah for her cosmetology classes, new adidas for Brandon and Jamal (as she’d mentioned to James, because the boys were nothing if not predictable) and a pair of stupidly expensive leather driving gloves for James. She wrapped them all and then eyed the living room with dismay – the festively if poorly wrapped gifts were out of place. There was no tree or decorations. A poke around Harry’s attic revealed a decided lack of any Christmas anything, which half made her wonder if Harry didn’t like Christmas. But then she remembered James saying how most of the ‘tailors’ weren’t sentimental and hoped it was just a lack of people to be Christmasy with rather than a dislike of the holiday itself.

She popped down to the nearest department store for decorations. She tried to toe the line between garish and tasteful, not wanting to sear Harry’s eyes out, but she wanted to make it as festive as possible. She may have gone a bit overboard, as she very nearly had to call James for help in carrying it all back, but with some creative draping of the bags, she managed.

Home again, she popped her iPod in the docking player, cranked up the tunes, and got to work, singing (though not Christmas carols, she heard plenty of those at work) and putting up the tree (fake, to avoid the mess of needles and the unpleasant smell of pine, sue her) and hanging glass ornaments over it. She put a bit of garland over the mantel and a set of candles on each end to dress it up again. There was a wreath on the door and lights around the front window.

As she put the gifts under the tree, one of her favorite songs came on, and she unabashedly began to sing, hips swaying to the beat. She did a happy little spin and came to a dead stop, seeing Harry leaning against the doorframe, a little smile playing on his mouth. She felt her cheeks heat a bit.

Harry pushed off from the doorway and crossed the room towards her, steps in time with the beat. As the song grew more intense he took her hand and pulled her into the middle of the room to dance, easily leading her around the floor, spinning and swaying until she felt half dizzy from it. As the song came its finale, much too soon for her, he bent her back in a final dip that had her hair nearly touching the floor. The room went very quiet, as it had been the last song of the playlist. She stared up at him, pulse thundering in her ears over the intimacy of the position, the way Harry held her securely and was staring into her eyes with some emotion she was almost afraid to try to guess at.

Finally, when the tension grew to a level where she would need to either kiss him or scream, he pulled her upright and cleared his throat. “You’ve been busy, I see.”

“Well yeah. I mean. It’s Christmas soon. I – you don’t mind, do you? You didn’t have any Christmas decorations in the attic, and I know James said you don’t usually _do_ Christmas, so I was kinda hoping it wasn’t cause you hate it or anything.”

“I don’t hate it,” Harry assured her. “We are not terribly sentimental at the shop, so there’s never more than a quiet exchange of alcohol for the day, everyone trying to outdo the others with how terribly expensive the bottle that they’re giving away is.” He looked around, tugging her in close to his side. “This is much better.”

“James is driving me up Christmas eve to see mum and take her present to her. I was planning to do the whole thing on Christmas – turkey, stuffing, all of it. Is that okay?”

“That sounds perfect, Eggsy.”

“We could have James over. An’ – seemed like you an’ Doc’ Campbell are mates, yeah? Did you wanna invite him? Shit. He helped save my life – I need to get him a gift! Fuckin’ hell, how did I forget that?”

Harry laughed quietly. “Eggsy, calm down! Mer – Hamish won’t be expecting a gift. Besides, he’s a fairly simple when you get down to it. Get him a new pair of slippers and he’ll be quite content.”

“Slippers? Really?”

“The warmer the better. He has terrible circulation. His feet are always cold.”

“Okay.” She looked around. “You really don’t mind it all? It ain’t too much?”

“No, my dear. It’s not too much. I’d say it’s just right.” He eyed the wrapped gifts. “You’re no better than me at origami, I’ll wager.”

“Oi! My first time wrapping stuff, cut me some slack!”

If Harry noticed the lack of a gift with his name on it, he didn’t comment. Eggsy had hoped the painting would be framed and ready, but even with James putting in a rush on the order, they would be cutting it close. James wasn’t able to deliver it until he came to pick her up for the drive on Christmas eve, and she didn’t get to check out the frame as they had wrapped it in fancy metallic gold wrapping paper. Harry’s eyes went wide when he saw it and he looked a question at James, who shook his head. “Not from me, Harry. I am simply delivering it. Now then, Eggsy, are you ready?”

Eggsy tucked the gold wrapped gift next to the tree and grabbed her coat. “Ready.” She gave Harry a brief hug on her way out, hugging her mother’s gift to her chest. She was nervous about Harry’s reaction to the painting, though the anticipation of the visit with her mum helped take her mind off of it. There was also the mystery of the gift sitting in the back seat, and she spent the drive pestering James with guesses as to what it could be.

Unlike Harry, James chose to come into the visitors lounge with her. Her mum lit up when she saw the both of them come in, and gave James a hug in greeting just as she did Eggsy. Eggsy insisted she open her gift right there, as did James. Michelle pulled the soft pink cashmere sweater on immediately, exclaiming over the softness and warmth. James had given her a beautiful woolen coat with brass buttons shining down the front. Michelle tried it on, and presented quite the lady about town image. She was a bit upset that her circumstances didn’t allow for gifts in return, but Eggsy wasn’t bothered, nor was James. “Next Christmas, yeah?” she said confidently. Michelle’s determined, “Next Christmas!” was the best gift she could have given Eggsy, especially considering where they’d been last year.

Eggsy was up bright and early Christmas day to get the turkey going. As far as she knew, there were no old family recipes for stuffing or anything, so she made do with a recipe she found online that had great reviews and sounded delicious.

Harry came down as she was shoving the bird in the oven. Her phone was set to remind her to baste it at the appropriate intervals, with another set to remind her when to start the sides. “Shit! I forgot dessert!” she realized, turning panicked eyes on Harry.

He ran a calming hand down her back on his way to the kettle. “Relax, my dear. I noticed the lack of dessert and popped down to the bakery the other day. It’s not precisely traditional, but there’s a French silk pie for afters.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Harry. My name is Harry,” Harry corrected.

Eggsy snorted out a laugh. “Sorry. Thank you, Harry, for saving Christmas dinner.”

“It was hardly that dire, but you’re welcome. It was the least I could do, seeing as you put all the rest of this together.” He put the kettle on to boil and pulled her in for a hug. “Happy Christmas, Eggsy. I can say, without a doubt, it is the best one I can recall in years.”

“You ain’t even opened your present yet,” she mumbled, face tucked against his chest in the vee of his robe.

“Doesn’t matter.”

She sighed. “Yeah. You’re right – it don’t. Last year on Christmas I was talking to people at a women’s shelter, arranging for a spot for me an’ mum.” She tilted her face up. “Thank you, Harry,” she said seriously. “You saved our lives, an’ then you went and saved ‘em in a whole different way when you got her in that place and let me stay here.”

“It was my absolute pleasure, Eggsy. I’ve been glad of that every single day since.”

Eggsy tucked her face back against his chest and held on, neither putting an end to the embrace until the kettle whistled shrilly.

They fixed tea and toast, and in defiance of Harry’s normally strict rule about eating at the table, took both into the living room. Eggsy turned on the Christmas lights, casting a cheerful, multi-colored glow about the room. She finished her toast quickly, then curled her legs up on the sofa, hands cupping her mug while she sipped. She stared dreamily at the tree beside the fireplace, a little sleepy again now that the flurry of dinner preparation is finished, and there’s little to do beside wait for an alarm to tell her when to baste. “Does the fireplace actually work, or is it decoration?”

“It’s functional. I have it inspected yearly to make certain there are no blockages in case of a power outage.” Harry glanced at her. “Would you like a fire for the day? I keep wood in the garage.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” She put a hand on his arm when he made to get up. “Finish your tea, Harry. You’re a bear if you end up with cold dregs.”

“I most certainly am not,” Harry sniffed. She laughed and let herself slip a little to the side so their shoulders pressed.

Eventually, Harry finished his tea and got up. He returned with an armful of logs and knelt in front of the fireplace. He mucked about a bit, arranged the logs and stuffing bits of wadded up newspapers around them. The wood caught really well, and in short order a cheerful fire was burning, crackling merrily. Harry dusted off his hands, then reached for a small, beautifully wrapped present under the tree. “For you, Eggsy.”

“Oh!” She probably shouldn’t be all the surprised, considering her birthday, but she honestly hadn’t expected anything. She ran her fingers over the wrapping paper, unaccountably nervous about opening it. “You first,” she said impulsively. “An’ you hafta be honest about it. _James_ said it was good, but I dunno if I totally trust him.”

“Yet more evidence of your intelligence,” he joked. He slid he heavy frame out and sat back down beside her. She made a quick bet with herself and cheered internally when she won as Harry proved the sort to carefully peel away tape rather than ripping through the paper. He lifted the sheet of gold, completely intact, away from the frame beneath. James had chosen a simple, matte black wooden frame that seemed to offset the brilliant, shining blue of the painting. Harry’s lips parted slightly as he studied it, fingers hovering over but not touching the canvas. “Eggsy, this is breathtaking,” he breathed. “Where in heaven’s name did you find this? I can hardly credit – look at the detailing! Who painted…” His eyes apparently finally caught the small signature near the bottom that James had insisted she add. He turned to her. “You painted this? Eggsy, this is incredible. I had no idea you could paint!”

“I haven’t really since school, an’ never nothing like this, but. You don’t have one in your collection, an’ with them bein’ endangered an’ all, I thought – you really like it? It ain’t crap?”

“Don’t do that, Eggsy. This is incredible talent, and I shan’t have you doubting yourself.” He looked around. “I shall have to do a bit of work to find the perfect place for this. In the meantime, I think…yes.” He got up and moved a spindly looking end table nearer to the fire, then propped the painting against it. It was angled in such a way as to reflect both the fire light and the Christmas light off the brilliant metallic blue of the butterfly, while also being far enough from the heat of the fire to not damage any part of it. When he had it place to his liking he strode back over to her, took both her hands in his, and pressed kisses into her knuckles. “Thank you, Eggsy. I adore it. I can only hope you like your gift even a fraction as much as I like mine.”

Eggsy could feel the heat of her cheeks and knew she was blushing wildly. He released her hands to allow her to open her gift. She, unlike him, was a ripper. She tore the deep burgundy paper and found a jewelers box inside. Heart pounding, she lifted the lid and gasped. An emerald pendant with matching earrings lay on a bed of black velvet. The emeralds were cut into the shape of a heart, with small, crystal clear diamonds spilling down the side, all set in gold.

“Emeralds,” Harry explained softly, lifting the pendant out of the box, “symbolize spring and rebirth. And diamonds, of course, are your birthstone.” He fastened the pendant around her neck, fingertips just grazing her skin, making her shiver. “Every lady should have something fine to wear.”

“I didn’t know gems had meanings,” she whispered, fingertips playing gently over the pendant that fell just between her breasts. Feeling greatly daring, she caught his hand and returned his own thank you gesture, kissing the palm of his hand. “Thank you, Harry. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.”


	7. Chapter 7

James was the first of their two expected guests to arrive. They had both showered and dressed for the day by then, Eggsy choosing a plain black sweater for the day so the pendant would stand out. She also put her hair up, though she usually didn’t bother, just so she could show off the matching earrings. She’d been half afraid that her piercings would have closed over and she’d have to find a needle to redo them, though that was thankfully not needed.

James blew in, immediately sniffing the air and mentioning his terrible hunger. He stopped dead when he saw the necklace, gave Harry an odd look, then pulled Eggsy into a quick hug. “You look lovely, Eggsy. The emeralds complement your eyes beautifully. Harry chose well,”  he said, passing a bottle of wine to Harry.

“I’m half afraid to wear it out of the house,” she joked. “My luck, the chain’d break an’ it’d fall down a storm drain!”

“Highly unlikely,” Harry said dryly, handing James a glass.

“And what did you think of your gift, Haz?”

“ **Don’t** call me that, and of course I love it.”

“I have six of them,” James said smugly.

Eggsy punched his shoulder as she took his coat to the closet. “They’s the practice ones I was gonna bin.”

“Eggsy, light of my life, why would you say such a thing? Everyone knows I’m your favorite.” James clutched at his heart, staggering against the wall as though wounded.

“Fat chance, Jimmy,” she taunted, knowing he was unfond of the nickname. He’d once grumbled about there being at least one ‘Jimmy’ in every movie with the mob in it and brought to mind fat Italians with hairy chests and garish gold chains.

“Rude child, honestly. You should respect your elders.”

“I’m sorry – Jimmy. Shall I get you a cane and some Metamucil?” she offered sweetly.

Harry snickered at the affronted look on James’ face.

Campbell arrived a few minutes later, removing a ridiculous fur hat from his bald head. “Unholy weather,” he grumbled. “Season’s greetings,” he added a bit awkwardly, nodding at Eggsy while he passed what looked like a box of chocolates to Harry.

“Happy Christmas, doc.” She took his coat as well, stifing her amused grin over his grumbling. She didn’t miss the way he noticed her jewelry, nor the way he looked immediately at Harry.

Eggsy ushered them all into the dining room while she went into the kitchen to finish dinner. Harry followed a few moments later to help her wrestle the turkey out of the roaster and onto a platter. She scooped the stuffing into a bowl, then followed Harry as he carried the turkey into the dining room. James cheered when the bird came into view, and even Campbell looked intrigued rather than pissy. Eggsy place the stuffing, the last of the sides, on the table. Harry stood at the head of the table holding the carving knife a bit awkwardly. “I believe it’s traditional to say something when carving the Christmas turkey,” he began.

“Oh, stuff it and get cutting,” James said. “The lass has been slaving all day cooking, even I can tell she’s famished!”

Harry pointed the knife at him. “What makes you think it was all Eggsy? I’ll have you know I had an equal hand in all this, Jimmy-boy.”

“Taste-testing is hardly an equal hand, Haz,” James shot back. “And really, are you sure you want to be doing something like that? That belt is looking a bit tight.”

“I happen to know it isn’t MY waist that has changed,” Harry snipped as he began to carve. “I saw Andrew’s notes from your last measuring.”

“May I remind you gentlemen who is the keeper of your medical records? Do you really want me to end this argument or can we eat the blessed turkey already?” Campbell glared at both men, doing a wonderful impression of a pissed off principal. They subsided with a couple last dirty looks.

Eggsy watched, a bit fascinated, all the unconscious mannerisms they exhibited. The dishes were passed automatically and consistently in a counter-clockwise direction. No one lifted a fork until the last of the food had been served and Harry had picked up his. None of the men cut their entire portion of meat, instead cutting it by the bite. It was the same with the rolls – rip a piece, butter it, eat it. She had noticed Harry doing all that but hadn’t realized it was more than just a Harry thing. It was definitely better than what she was used to, Dean’s dogs grabbing things, elbowing each other, shoving food in their mouths so fast she’d always wondered how they didn’t choke. She quietly sipped her wine while she listened to the banter, grinning occasionally at particularly clever zingers.

After dinner, she and Harry cleared the table, though both James and Campbell offered to help. Harry started coffee then helped her put the leftovers away. “You went very quiet,” Harry observed.

“Just listening. You’ve all known each other a long time, yeah?”

“I’ve known Hamish for oh, two decades now, and James for fourteen years.”

“Campbell acts like the grumpy big brother that always gets stuck babysitting.”

Harry snickered. “You have no idea how accurate that is, Eggsy. Here. Would you mind taking the coffee in while I fetch the pie? Thank you.”

James made obscene sounds when Harry brought the pie in. “And this, gentlemen, is why the number on the scale has changed in the wrong direction for both of you,” Campbell said sternly. He did not, however, decline his own piece.

Eggsy blinked when she tried the pie and beamed at Harry. “Good choice, Harry. Never been much of a one for sweets, but this’d change anyone’s mind!”

“I thought your generation ate nothing BUT sweets,” Campbell said.

Eggsy snorted. “I liked biscuits as a kid like any other, but I couldn’t afford to eat that sort of thing later on, so I never got a taste for it. Gymnastics isn’t very forgiving if you intend to compete.”

“Fair point.” He wagged his finger at Harry and James. “You should take a lesson from the lady and stop indulging so often. She has desserts in their proper place.”

“ **If** I’ve gained any weight, the blame can, in fact, be laid entirely at Eggsy’s door,” Harry snipped. “She’s been on an Italian kick lately.”

“I love Italian!” James frowned at her. “Eggsy, _why_ have I been so shamefully excluded from your culinary explorations?”

“Dunno, James. Why ain’t I been allowed to drive your car?”

James narrowed his eyes at her. “What sort of cars have you driven in the past?”

“Whatever cars Dean had me steal,” she said promptly. “So all sorts, an’ I’m damn good at it. Even got my license.”

“So you wish to drive my Audi like a stolen vehicle?!”

“Nah, you’s gotta be careful with the stolen ones. Obey the limits an’ lights an’ all. I wanna drive your Audi like it’s _fun_.”

“The cheek of this girl!”

“Your loss,” Harry told him. “She’s been experimenting with various lasagnas.”

“It definitely explains your waistline,” James pouted.

“You should be more concerned about your arse than his waist. It was definitely on the squishy side last time I kicked it,” Eggys drawled.

“Lies! Lies and slander, you take that back!” James pointed an outraged finger at her. “It is not squishy!”

“Oh, but she **did** kick it, then?” Campbell questioned.

“Soundly,” Harry confirmed. Campbell gave them both hard looks, which he quickly wiped away when he realized that Eggsy noticed.

A little uncomfortable, Eggsy rose to start clearing the dessert dishes, waving off Harry’s help. “I got this. You go, I dunno, drink whatever posh booze you normally drink after dinner.”

“Alright. Gentlemen, you heard the lady. We’ve been dismissed.”

Eggsy took the time to wash most of the dishes, thinking over the odd looks of the day. Campbell hadn’t been to the house since he’d given her final checkup months ago. He was seeing something going on that he didn’t like, that was pretty clear. She just didn’t know if it was something to really worry over, or if he was just a grump who liked to fuss over nothings. Granted, even James had given Harry an odd look over the necklace, but that could simply be surprise over an expensive gift when Harry hadn’t done such a thing before. She loved it and hadn’t expected it, but wasn’t all that surprised that he’d gone a tad overboard – he was forever frustrated when she wouldn’t let him buy her everything. She should have expected him to take advantage of the gift giving holiday to do so, when she couldn’t really object. It was Campbell that she worried about. God only knew what he was thinking, and she didn’t want him to use her to make trouble for Harry or even James at work.

When she joined the men in the living room, she found them all clustered around the painting, glasses in hand. Considering each of them were in bespoke suits, she had a hard time _not_ laughing at the picture perfect image of a bunch of old money snobs appraising art. “Ah, Eggsy, we were just showing Hamish here the product of your incredible talents,” James said.

“And I am appropriately impressed. It’s quite life-like, Eggsy. I hope Harry was suitably appreciative.”

“He said thanks, just like his mum taught ‘im,” Eggsy assured him. She walked over to the tree for the last two gifts and paused, seeing some extra packages underneath. Shrugging it off – James and Campbell had probably gotten Harry something different than the usual booze, seeing as they were doing a proper Christmas this year, she grabbed the gifts for the guests. “Happy Christmas, gentlemen,” she said, passing them out. She was far less nervous over these gifts. While she enjoyed being in a position where she _could_ give gifts, and decent ones at that, she wasn’t as invested in either man as she was in Harry.

“Why, thank you, Eggsy,” Campbell said, sounding genuinely surprised.

James gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Entirely unnecessary, dear girl, but thank you.”

Eggsy tucked her hands into her back pockets as she watched them open them. James seemed thrilled with the sheepskin driving gloves, complimenting the feel and fit as he tried them on. Campbell seemed lowkey excited about the wool-lined slippers, mentioning that his old ones were about worn out. Pleased, Eggsy curled up on the sofa, prepared to watch Harry open his. Instead, James stooped down and grabbed the large, flat box, of the type used to wrap clothing in and handed it to her. “Happy Christmas, Eggsy.” Campbell repeated the motion with the shoebox sized rectangular box. A tad confused, she shot Harry a brief questioning look, but thanked them both and started opening them. She was less comfortable with her usual ‘rip the paper off’ method in front of them and carefully removed the wrapping from James’ gift. Inside the box, she found a long black dress – quite fancy. Certainly not the sort to wear to the pub or even a club. But it was definitely gorgeous, and would fit really well. Campbell had gotten her matching shoes, with thankfully low heels, and a single gold buckle to add a bit of shine.

“I happen to know,” James drawled, reading her confusion, “that there is cause for celebration. You finished your schooling with top marks. Three years’ worth of it in a matter of months. While I know that your mother would love to be there if she could, I wanted to take you to dinner to celebrate. I _do_ hope you forgive the presumption, I know ladies generally prefer to choose their own gowns for such occasions.” He cast Campbell a sly look. “Hamish here decided I hadn’t thought things through and had to stick his over-large nose in with the shoes. I did try to tell him that ladies always have a variety of shoes for all occasions, but he simply wouldn’t listen.”

“Well, he was right! I’ve never owned a pair of heels in my life. The last dress shoes I owned was in primary – had these little pink sandals with sparkles on.” She smiled at them both. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

“You’re very welcome, Eggsy,” Campbell said regally. He smacked James in the arm and muttered, “Told you so,” making her laugh.

The rest of the day passed quietly and rather quickly. There were no further odd looks from Campbell to make her worry, and the banter between the men was lively and full of good humor. Shortly before tea time, James and Campbell left, with James’ admonishing her to keep January the third open for their celebratory dinner. Harry fixed them both sandwiches from the leftover turkey and again relaxed his rule about eating at the table so they could relax on the sofa. Eggsy nibbled at her sandwich, then finally came out with it. “Campbell ain’t keen on you an’ James teachin’ me to fight, is he?”

“He is rather concerned with the increasing closeness of our friendships as a whole,” Harry acknowledged. “Being a tailor does not usually allow for much of a private life.”

“Huh. So what does that mean for mum and James? If they get serious about things, would that even be allowed? I mean.” She took a deep breath. “Even if it weren’t her idea and weren’t her fault, mum’s an addict. **I** know she can keep her mouth shut, even stoned out of her mind, but.”

“It’s a concern, and one I mentioned to James as being a potential problem for the future. It’s between them to sort out. They’re adults, and James at least knows all the potential issues to be dealt with should he and your mother wish to pursue a relationship.”

“Yeah, but is he gonna take ‘em seriously? He’s like that devil may care uncle that never seems to manage to fully grow up.”

Harry laughed. “That _is_ rather the image he presents, but I promise you, he is not the type to trifle with anyone’s feelings. He will not lead your mother on if friendship is all that he feels he can offer her.”

“Okay. Is Campbell gonna make problems for you at work over me?”

“No,” Harry said firmly. “Even were I doing something that is against the rules of my employment, he would not say anything. We are permitted private lives, Eggsy. It’s just usually too difficult to manage one successfully. You are already aware of the exclusive nature of our clients and have no issue with it. Our being called out of town for sudden fittings does not bother you and you have proven your discretion several times over with not asking. He may be concerned, having seen too many of us try and fail before, but there is nothing he could or would do to cause problems.” He reached over to squeeze her hand. “Swear down.”


	8. Chapter 8

Eggsy objected, in a very lowkey way, to James having chosen January 3rd as the day for her celebration dinner. It was the day she’d placed that fateful call for help and the day Harry had found her, and since Harry was still home, she had sort of wanted to spend the day with him. Which she did, of course, but had to get ready for the night out at some fancy restaurant rather than having a quiet dinner with her friend.

Granted, she was a tad annoyed as well about the whole fancy dinner thing in general, as it had forced her to go out and buy different underwear, since none of the comfortable cotton underwear she owned worked with the dress. Still, it was almost worth it when she came down the stairs in the dress and shoes, hair loose down her back and the beautiful necklace and earrings Harry had given her on display, and seen Harry go very still when he saw her. He swallowed visibly, then took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You look absolutely lovely, Eggsy.”

“Thanks. Feel a bit like I’m playin’ dress up, though,” she admitted.

“That wears off.”

There was a knock on the door so Harry let go of her hand to open it. James swept in, dressed as always in an immaculate suit and tie. He beamed at Eggsy. “You look ravishing, Eggsy! Where’s your coat? Ah, thank you,” he said, taking her coat from Harry and swirling it around her shoulders. She rolled her eyes a little at his dramatics. “Shall we?” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and winked at Harry. “I’ll bring her back in one piece!”

“I should hope so. Eggsy, do you have your mobile in case this wanker gets on your nerves?”

“In my coat! But can’t I just break his wrist or somethin’?”

“You _could_ , but then he’d be off of work and underfoot more often.”

“Good point.”

“If you two are quite finished?” James arched an eyebrow at them. They nodded and he guided Eggsy out with a disdainful little sniff.

James took her to an extremely expensive restaurant. There were no prices on the menu, the tablecloths seemed to be real linen, and there was someone playing piano softly in the corner. Though her French was definitely much better than it used to be, she still didn’t recognize anything on the menu and had James order for her. “Just nothin’ aquatic, right? If it lives in water, or comes out of something that lives in water, I ain’t interested.”

“Easily done.” James rattled off an order for both of them, waiting until the wine had been poured, then grew very serious. “I had a second reason for wishing to take you out. I had hoped Harry would broach the topic, but he is proving very reluctant. How much do you know of what we do?”

“I don’t know anything,” she answered promptly.

“Good. Now the real answer?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I just said it. You’s are all tailors, ‘cept Doc Campbell. You an’ Harry was classified military of some kind, an’ knew my dad. Pretty simple.”

James sighed and sipped his wine. “Very well. Eggsy, we are not just tailors,” he said quietly. “We are part of a very exclusive, highly trained group of spies, operating at the highest levels of discretion. We are not part of MI5 or any other branch you may have heard of, and next to no one outside of our group knows who or what we are.”

Eggsy placed her hands flat on the table so she wouldn’t be tempted to throw her wine in his face and run out. “Why are you tellin’ me this?” she hissed.

“Because I wish to make you an offer, and you must be as fully informed as possible before you can answer,” he said simply. “Our recruitment process is…a bit different, from what you may have heard about other intelligence organizations. When an agent dies or retires, all active agents hand pick someone as a potential replacement. The proposals undergo rigorous training and testing to find the candidate best suited to joining us. The process takes usually around a year, during which time you will live with the other potentials at our main facility. One of our number has chosen to retire. The rest of us have until next week to present our proposals. I wish you to be my proposal.”

“Are you insane? Should you be tellin’ me any of this here?” She looked around, although admittedly the tables were spaced to allow private conversations and they were in a secluded alcove anyway.

“We are quite safe to speak here. I would not risk either of us, Eggsy. Now tell me, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

“Harry don’t want me doin’ it, does he. You said you expected him to say somethin’ an’ he ain’t,” she said flatly.

“We both know he has a few overprotective feelings towards your person. We are highly trained and have the best support available, but there is no getting away from the danger of the job, nor from the terribly ugly things we too often have to see. However, Harry’s feelings are beside the point. This is about you and what you want to do with your future. You’ve been seriously thinking about going into the military, where in my opinion, it’s highly likely you would be recruited by MI5 anyway. We are better, and I’m saving us a step.”

The conversation was interrupted by the waiter bringing out their meals. Eggsy couldn’t even enjoy the delicious smells wafting up from her plate. Her stomach was in knots over the whole situation, half afraid that a no from her would lead to her disappearance or something. Worse, she was afraid that any negative fallout would hit Harry. She picked at her food as she thought. “Was my dad one of you?”

“He and I were proposals at the same time,” James answered quietly. His gaze was solemn. “I can’t give you more details than that unless you agree to being my proposal – I’m sorry, I’m not trying to coerce your decision, but I am limited in what I can tell you unless you agree.”

“What happens to the washouts?” She gave him a flat look. “One spot with multiple people trying out, what happens to the ones that don’t cut it.”

“You will sign a very great many non-disclosure agreements when you become a trainee. Further, you agree to be monitored for the rest of your life to ensure your discretion. For most, this is not an issue, as many of our agents choose members of their own families. There is a lot of old money involved, extended families. This has allowed for easier monitoring of failed recruits. That’s how we began, and old money being what it is, that is largely how it’s continued. There are no actual rules in place against recruiting outside that social sphere, which is how your father was recruited. It’s mostly a combination of habit and prejudice, both of which are dying out for most of us.” James gestured at her plate. “Please, Eggsy, eat. It’s quite delicious. I know this is a lot to take in, but that’s no reason to let the food go to waste.”

Eggsy managed a few bites as she thought, though she didn’t really taste it. A year ago, she would have jumped at it. She’d had nothing much to lose. Admittedly, it wasn’t like the world had exactly opened up in front of her, but she did have options that she hadn’t had back then.

But.

But she wanted to do something meaningful with her life. It was why she was so drawn to the idea of the military. She’d spent so long protecting her mother that it was in her bones now. Doing something like this, being a James Bond-esq spy, would let her protect everyone. Her father had trusted these people enough to want to join. She knew Harry, she knew James, and she trusted both of them. Trusted that they wouldn’t be part of something bad, though given the job she had no doubt that they’d done bad things, so morally she didn’t think they would be steering her wrong. But the one thing that had held her back from already have joined the military was the thought of killing people.

If she’d known how to fight like she did now, she was pretty certain she could have killed Dean a year ago and not lost any sleep. But that was someone she _knew_ was rotten to the core. On the job, when it was just – the other side? When it was some soldier or security guard just doing their job? She didn’t know if she could do it.

Of course, that was part of what the training would help determine, wasn’t it? If she could do the job when it mattered?

Then, too, the idea of finally having no more secrets with Harry was appealing. Being able to stand toe to toe with him as an equal was even more so. He would _have_ to get over his impulse to take care of her if she were literally his equal in skill and training, and he would have something genuinely worthwhile to be proud of her for.

“I’ll do it,” she heard herself say before she’d even realized that she’d decided.

James beamed at her. “Wonderful! I have every confidence in you, Eggsy. Shall we order dessert?”

She looked down at her plate to see that she’d eaten it all. “Huh. Yeah okay. Whatta they got?”

“They have this exquisite tart with brandied cherries – I believe you’ll love it.”

Harry was, naturally, still awake when James brought her back. She walked in, a little hesitant about the conversation they needed to have, honestly worried that he’d be furious that James was making her his proposal. James might think he was being overprotective, but what if he just didn’t think she could do it?

Harry, however, didn’t give her a chance to broach the topic. He took one look at them both and glared at James. “You’ve made her your proposal. Damn it, James. I intended to make her mine!”

Eggsy scratched the back of her neck to hide how much she wanted to hear those words in an entirely different context.

“You were dithering, Harry. Were you going to wait until the last minute then sweep her off without so much as a chance to pack or ask questions?”

“Of course not!”

“Well then. You should not have waited so long. Eggsy,” James turned to her. “You’ll want to give notice to your employer. Tell him you’ll be leaving for a job training opportunity outside the city. You won’t be able to speak with your mother terribly often, so you’ll want to tell her the same thing when she calls tomorrow so it isn’t a shock.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll collect you in a week. You won’t need to pack, everything will be provided for you during training.” He nodded at a fuming Harry and left.

“Was you really gonna make me your proposal?” she asked immediately.

“I was.” Harry scowled. “I wanted to let you finish the festivities of Christmas and your graduation first. Damn him anyway, now I have to come up with someone else.”

Eggsy grinned and rocked up onto her toes, hands behind her back. “Why bother? I’ll only kick their arse.”

Harry laughed. “Of that I have no doubt. Nevertheless, I must come up with someone.”

“Hey Harry? James said. I mean. Now that I’m his proposal, do I get to know what happened to my dad?”

Harry stared at her. “Oh yes. Yes, it’s only right that I tell you. Come and sit, please.” Harry led her to the sofa and took her hand. “We were recruiting for a position,” he began quietly. “James and your father were the final two. They had both passed the final test, which was a highly unusual circumstance. Normally, only one person makes it, and they are then sort of apprenticed with the agent that proposed them for a year to give them actual experience. In this case, the pair of them were sent into the field with both of the agents that proposed them, myself and Merlin – Hamish Campbell. We were interrogating a prisoner and I missed something. The man had a grenade and I didn’t see it until he pulled the pin. Your father jumped on it and saved all our lives.”

“Oh.” Eggsy looked down at her knees, just sticking out from under the hem of the dress.

“I am so sorry, Eggsy. It was my mistake that cost him his life.”

“His mistake, too,” she said.

“I was lead. The responsibility was mine.”

“No, Harry. Maybe you was lead, but Campbell – Merlin was there too. So was James and my dad. Dad was a soldier before you recruited him, right. He was trained even before you knew him to look for that stuff too. You’s all missed it. An’ it sucks, yeah. But. I know you. I know James.” She looked up and gave Harry a slightly watery smile. “I can’t blame dad for doin’ it, ‘cause I’d do the same thing. Better one dyin’ than four. I ain’t mad, if that’s what you was worried about. I’m glad to know what really happen but it don’t change anything, really. Well. It makes me even more sure about what I’m doin’. He thought you was all worth dyin’ for, an’ he’d already been through all the trainin’. If I had doubts, knowin’ that just killed ‘em. Thank you for tellin’ me.”

“I would have liked to have told you sooner.”

“S’ okay. Top secret an’ all.” She shifted to swing her legs up and across Harry’s lap with a cheeky grin. “Dunno how women wear these fuckin’ things all the time. They ain’t even that high an’ my feet are killin’ me. An’ I was sat on my arse most of the time!”

Harry chuckled, seeming relieved at the change in topic. “It’s a mystery. I assume it’s one of those things that take practice.” He undid the straps and slid them off her feet. She flexed her toes, glad of the freedom. “You pulled them off quite well for being unaccustomed to them.”

“Thanks.”

“So how did you enjoy dinner?”

She made a face. “I got no clue, bruv.” Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “He started nattering about Kingsman before the food even got there, yeah? Freaked me out, him talking about stuff in a public place, even if we was pretty far from other people. I know I ate but I ain’t got a clue what it was or if it tasted good. Dessert wasn’t bad, though.”

“He has dreadful timing sometimes.”


	9. Chapter 9

The week of waiting to leave for Kingsman was a bit weird. At some moments she would realize the day and time and think how slowly time was passing. At others, she would almost panic at how quickly it was passing, and how little she had left with Harry in his lovely house with the dead bugs all over the walls.

Harry found a candidate to put forward, though he was a bit unhappy about it. “If he were in a group without you, I would have every confidence,” he explained. “However, since you will also be there, I’m afraid he’s unlikely to succeed.”

“What happens if two make it through? Like, if my dad hadn’t died, what would they have done if he and James had both done well on the mission?”

“It’s possible. It’s happened once before. In that case, a new position is made if the candidate wishes. There are other options as well, if one should choose to be a handler or other support role. Some of the candidates who don’t make agent are recruited for these positions.”

“Huh. So it ain’t an automatic boot to the street if you fail a test or somethin’. Good to know.”

Neither Harry nor James would tell her anything about the training or the tests themselves, as it would invalidate her candidacy if they did. The only things they would tell her were to pay attention and remember teamwork. That seemed a bit odd, since they were all vying for a single opening, so there would be a sense of competition in place from the start. Then again, any one of them could end up in a different role, and the successful candidate could find themselves having to work with someone they once competed against, so maybe it wasn’t so weird. Too, they would need to prove they were able to work as a team if they wanted to prove they could be an agent.

She _didn’t_ add that, if the rest of the candidates were of the same type that James had described, then it would be her in there without someone watching her back. That would be her problem to deal with, and she certainly wouldn’t be running to either James or Harry to solve her problems for her.

The day arrived and Eggsy found herself neatening up her room, making sure all her clothes were put away properly, save for the set she was wearing. She tucked her pendant and earrings into their velvet line boxed regretfully – it wouldn’t be wise to wear them if she’d be undergoing rigorous physical training. She replaced it with her father’s medal, though. It was still a gift from Harry, and still meant a lot to her. It had changed her entire life, after all. Plus, the stainless steel ball chain she had it on was the type used for dog tags, so if it was good enough for military training, it should work fine for this as well.

When she went downstairs, she found James waiting for her next to Harry. “Time, then?”

“Yes, my dear.”

“Right.” She grinned at Harry. “Will I be seeing around, wherever it is I’m going?”

“I expect you shall see both of us. Rather more James than myself, as your sponsor, but as I have a candidate as well, you’ll see me too. As time and missions permit, in both our cases.”

“Cool. Then I’ll see you around!”

James did not drive them in his sweet sport’s car. Rather, he had a plain black cab waiting. Eggsy was unimpressed. “This isn’t an ordinary cab, Eggsy, I assure you. This is a Kingsman cab, and Bond would tear his hair out in jealousy over its special features.”

“Spy cab. I suppose it makes sense, they’re everywhere.”

“Exactly.”

With that in mind, she held her tongue when they arrived on Savile Row and pulled up in front of a shop. The golden sign proclaimed it ‘Kingsman Tailors’, which, she thought, was hardly subtle. They named the group after the shop, or even vice versa? Really?

The dressing room as an elevator was fucking sick, though. So was the bullet train. When they stepped off, she couldn’t help but drift over to the giant window that looked down on a whole hangar of vehicles, from cars to jets. “Please tell me I’ll get to drive one of _those_ cars.”

“That all depends on you, Eggsy. Agents only.”

James dropped her off in a large dorm room, where a few young men and a couple other women were already gathered. She spotted the ones she knew were going to be a problem right away – three of the guys, all standing together and laughing as they looked at the other candidates in the room. More than once, she saw the tallest of them eye the other two women with a familiar appraising look. It was the stare of a man used to getting what he wanted without regard for others.

Eggsy drifted to the women right off, lifting her chin when the guys turned that look on her, then turned her back. “Hi, I’m Eggsy.”

“Eggy?”

“No, Egg **s** y. Well, Guinevere, but ain’t no one calls me that.”

“Roxanne Morton, Roxy. This is Amelia,” Roxy said, shaking her hand. Eggsy shook Amelia’s as well.

“I’m Charlie, this is Rufus and Digby,” the tall bloke said, pushing his way into their little huddle. “Did I hear your name right? Guinevere?”

“Egg-sy,” she repeated pointedly.

“It’s so mannish. Doesn’t suit you at all,” Charlie declared.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Charlie smirked at her then turned to Roxy. “Now, Roxy, that’s a lovely nickname, for a lovely lady.”

Roxy recoiled and Eggsy found herself stepping slightly in front of her, as she would have done for Sarah. Roxy, unlike Sarah, pushed herself even again, chin lifted and a slight curl to her lip. “Charlie, though. That’s so common, don’t you think?”

Charlie laughed, like it was all a big lark, but backed off.

The door opened again to admit one more person, and Eggsy caught sight of Harry before the door closed. Eggsy eyed the new arrival. He seemed to be in his early twenties, with a buzz cut and a tan that said he’d been somewhere warm until very recently. He wandered over to them with an affable smile. “Hallo all. I’m Derek.” He shook hands all around as they introduced themselves. He paused with Eggsy hand in his. “You army too? The chain, they dog tags?”

“Nope. Just a chain. A gift from a friend. My dad was army though. Died when I was a kid.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Derek seemed to be one of those easygoing guys who could fit in with anyone. He drifted back and forth between where Eggsy still stood with Amelia and Roxy and a couple of the less dickish guys and Charlie’s little group.

Eggsy chatted as she looked around the room. She wasn’t a huge fan of the apparently coed situation, since even the showers and toilets were in the open. She was even less fond of the giant mirror that faced the showers, which she strongly suspected was a two-way mirror. Not that she hadn’t expected to be watched basically at all times during training, but that was just sketchy.

The door opened again and Campbell – Merlin – entered. His eyes drifted over all of them and didn’t so much as pause on her. She took her cue and schooled her face into blankness. It’s not like they really knew each other, after all, unlike Harry and James. If either of them were directly involved in the training, she might have a difficult time remaining professional. As it was, she was able to be properly impressed with his speech, and even let herself feel a tiny bit intimidated by the body bags. Not intimidated enough to forgo putting Harry’s name as the next of kin, though.

The room filling with water was so unexpected that she froze for a bit, watching the others shout something about loo snorkels. She didn’t see why none of them made for the door, since surely if they had gotten there fast enough, they could have at least cracked it. On her own though, she knew she wouldn’t have enough strength to pull it open against all the water pressure.

Holding her breath, she looked around under the water, trying to spot a way out. She spotted Amelia first, tangled in her bedclothes. With a few strong kicks, she was able to get to her and untangle her feet. By then, the others were huddled around the toilets breathing through cannibalized bits of the plumbing. She towed Amelia over to Roxy, who instantly shared her breathing tube. Eggsy snagged a breath for herself and looked around again. Simply surviving couldn’t be the point of the test – that was stupid and limited. There had to be a way out.

Her eyes landed on the mirror and narrowed. She swam up close to it and stared hard for a second. It was definitely a twoway mirror. She drew back her fist and drove it forward as hard as she could, annoyed by the way the water dampened her power. It took three punches before cracks started to spiderweb out. Two more after that did the job, and the water pressure finished shattering the weakened glass. She spilled into the next room, tumbling painfully against her fellow trainees. She coughed as Merlin stepped closer to get their attention.

“Charlie, Roxy, well done on the snorkels,” he said, writing something on his clipboard. “For those of you still confused, if you can get a hollow tube around the u-bend of a toilet, you have an unlimited supply of air. Simple physics, but good to remember. Eggsy, well done on spotting that was a twoway mirror.”

“She’s probably seen enough of them,” Charlie snickered.

“Wipe those smirks off your face,” Merlin said coldly. “Because as far as I’m concerned, Eggsy is the only one of you who passed. The rest of you forgot the most important thing: teamwork. None of the rest of you noticed a teammate struggling or did anything about it.”

Beside her, Roxy cast a guilty look at Amelia, who just patted her shoulder with a wan smile.

Merlin led them, dripping, to a new room. This one didn’t have a mirror, and provided stalls for the showers and toilets, though the sinks and beds remained in the open. They all accepted fresh, dry pajamas and got changed, Eggsy and the girls using the shower stalls for a bit of privacy as they did.

She did not sleep very deeply the rest of the night.

The next day she had to hide her excitement as Merlin told them to pick out a puppy. She’d never had a pet before, and since she hadn’t really been sure what she was going to do with her life, she hadn’t felt able to approach Harry about getting one, since if she did choose the military, she’d have to either leave it with Harry or find a new home for it. She’d bet anything that Mr. Pickle had been his puppy partner from his training. The timing worked out, for sure.

JB was not a bulldog. She didn’t particularly care about the breed, but it was a little embarrassing to be the one to pick out the absolute smallest dog. It was also, she found, extremely difficult to manage the runs with the little beast, as his little legs and apparent asthma meant he couldn’t keep pace.

On the other hand, his tiny size meant that she could tuck him inside the ugly as sin boiler suit, leaving her hands free, and still make the run without losing a bit of speed. It also helped keep him warm as the snow accumulated and the temperature dropped even further.

She, Roxy, and Derek grew closer. Roxy was fiercely intelligent and just as determined, but Eggsy could tell she’d been rather sheltered. Charlie had figured out rather quickly that he could fluster her by simply coming on strong. Derek’s affable nature generally kept things from getting out of hand, but there were a few times, like when Charlie decided to dump a bucket of water on her and little JB, that she very nearly fed him his own teeth. Poor JB had been shivering, and even if Charlie didn’t like her, it was a shit thing to do to a puppy. Roxy had helped her dry the puppy off and Derek had somehow managed to get Charlie to offer an apology for the ‘prank’, insincere as it was.

She was able to see James once a week for a couple hours. They were all allowed to see their sponsors. Their meetings were always focused around learning, though of course tips or hints on the tests were forbidden. James tutored her on her weak points, starting with firearms. She’d never held a gun before, and that was one thing neither he nor Harry had been able to teach her in her ‘self-defense’ lessons – hand to hand training that put her ahead of her recruits, and an obvious sign of their intent in hindsight.

They continued foreign language lessons, with him adding Spanish into the mix. He also taught her the finer points of etiquette so she’d be able to blend in with the upper class that they often found themselves mingling with.

They were given a few hours of free time a week to use as they wished. Most of the time, Eggsy used it to study. There was a lot of politics that she needed to catch up on, so she spent a lot of time in the library, educating herself on the global situation. Roxy and Derek often joined her, and they took turns helping each other study. Derek was a crack marksman as well, and when James was unavailable, was always willing to help her with her weapons practice. Roxy willingly helped her learn the finer points of _feminine_ behavior, the ones James wouldn’t know. In return, Eggsy helped them with their hand to hand, as her scores put her on top of their entire group in that area. Occasionally a couple of the other guys would join them, though never Charlie and his two lackies.

Winter rolled into spring, which edged slowly into summer. By June, the seven that were left were all incredibly lean, thanks to the extreme physical training. Eggsy was feeling quite good about her scores overall, including her firearms. She was neck and neck with Roxy in everything except firearms, where Roxy edged her out, and hand to hand, which Eggsy was top in. Derek was a very close third behind them, right up until he withdrew in favor of training as a handler.

“Tough luck,” Charlie taunted after Derek had hugged them both goodbye. “It’s going to be rough going now that the army boy won’t be here to prop you up.”

Eggsy traded an incredulous look with Roxy. “You think the sky is the same color in his world?”

Roxy shrugged. “Who knows? He’s too busy trying to see his face in any and all reflective surfaces he’s never looked up to find out.”

Charlie lost his smirk. “I’m not the one living in a fantasy world. Do you really imagine there’s any real hope of some slag from the estates becoming a Knight?” He looked her up and down with an insulting sneer on his face. “Much less one whose mother spends all her time blitzed out on smack? You’re a drug addicted whore’s whore daughter, and it won’t be long before you’re a drug addicted whore yourself. The only way you made it this far was on your back.”

A white hot rage lit through Eggsy, making every inch of her _ache_ to pound Charlie’s sneering face into the ground until it was nothing but mush. She reached out to grab Roxy’s shoulder, preventing the other woman from punching him as she was clearly coiling to do. “So who is it I’m supposed to have fucked so good they made me their proposal?”

Charlie snorted. “Everyone knows you’re fucking Lancelot and Galahad.”

“I must be very talented in bed, then, if it’s convinced two highly trained, elite secret agents to put me in spy school. So tell me, what about that bothers you the most, bruv? That I’m that good, or that you’ll never know?” she asked coldly, more than aware of the way Charlie tended to stare at her tits and arse, particularly when they was working out and she was in the spandex practice gear.

“And what does it say about you, then, if someone who’s nothing more than a whore is still beating you on every single test Kingsman can throw at us?” Roxy threw in. “I’m sure granddad must be ever so proud.”

“You shut your mouth about my grandfather,” Charlie spat. “You aren’t fit to mention him.”

“What is going on here?” Merlin demanded from behind them, interrupting the brawl that was clearly brewing.

Eggsy pulled Roxy back even further. “Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on here,” she breathed, staring Charlie down. “Ain’t nothin’ here worth my time or Roxy’s.” She turned and paused when she saw Harry standing next to Merlin, both men giving Charlie a hard stare. She pulled Roxy passed them into the hallway.

“I _really_ want to go shoot something,” Roxy growled.

“Go on, then. Harry?” She turned as Roxy stalked off down the hallway. Harry leaned out the doorway to give her an enquiring look. “I’ve got some free time. You busy the next hour or so?”

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

“Meet me in the gym? I could use a really good spar right now.”

Harry gave her a hard look but nodded. “Certainly. I’ll join you after I change.”

Eggsy nodded tightly and made her way to the gym, careful to keep every part of her under tight reign, not wanting to broadcast how extremely furious she was.

By the time Harry met her in the gym, dressed in trackies and a t-shirt, she was all but vibrating with the pentup fury. His face was carefully blank as he stepped onto the mat with her. She went at him with a flurry of punches and kicks which she _knew_ were sloppy, which only made her more furious. He blocked every single one, then planted her ass on the mat with a wellplaced punch to the chest. She bounced right back up and went at him again, and again he blocked very single punch and kick. This time he grabbed her arm, threw her face down on the mat and pinned her there. He twisted her arm just to the point of pain, then let her go. She jumped again, and for a third time he allowed her to come at him and just blocked her for a while. This time when he put her down, he shoved her up against the wall and held both wrists behind her back. She let out a short, sharp scream of rage, bucked furiously and ineffectively for a few seconds before subsiding, panting and sweat drenched against the wall.

“Better?” Harry asked with infuriating mildness.

“Thinking,” she allowed.

“It’s a start.” Harry stepped back, releasing her. When she turned around, she could see how closely he was watching her, ready to defend himself again. She held up her hands and leaned against the wall. “So what did the little twat say to set you off like this?”

“He knew about mum’s addiction,” she said. “How the fuck did he know about mum’s addiction? We ain’t got access to the databases yet, not like he could just look us up!”

“Obviously someone informed him, likely his sponsor.”

“The fuck was the point of that?” she demanded.

Harry gestured at her. “I didn’t even break a sweat to put you down, Eggsy. You were too enraged to think. Tell me, how close were you to breaking Charlie’s face?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Had you done so, you would have been out,” Harry said flatly. “You’ve reached a point where, even if you fail a test, you’ll likely be recruited for another position. That’s no secret. If you were to attack another trainee, particularly this one, you would be out with no chance of any position anywhere within this organization.”

“Fuck me,” she breathed, letting her head thunk back against the wall. “Best tell Roxy that, she was almost as pissed as me. Fucker was really winding us up.”

“I’d gathered that was nothing new.”

“Oh yeah. Tosser’s been making comments since day one, hittin’ on us both, starting at our tits and shit. Delights in commentin’ on my social status like being born with a silver spoon up the arse somehow actually makes you a better person. Today it was how Derek was proppin’ us up this whole time, an’ I only got in cause I was shaggin’ you and James, an’ I’m a drug addicted whore’s whore daughter.” Her face darkened, fists clenching. “I don’t give a fuck what he says ‘bout me, but he needs to keep his fuckin’ mouth shut ‘bout my mum, you, an’ James.”

“Eggsy, you must listen to me.” The urgency in his voice made her straighten up and meet his eyes. “You’ve shown him where to stick the knife. He will be doing so again. You absolutely _cannot_ retaliate physically. You need to learn to control this anger or all your hard work will be down the drain. Do you understand?”

“ _How?!_ Just rememberin’ makes me want to hunt him down!”

“Use it.” Harry poked her stomach. “You’ve been angry for years, Eggsy. Don’t pretend otherwise. You’ve been helpless and angry because of it, at the world, at Dean, and you know damned well you practically fed off of it. Do it again.”

“I’m bettin’ a shrink would have a field day with that,” she joked weakly. But his serious eyes made her drop any more joking and nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” Her chin went up. “I **will** do that. Let him stew in the fuckin’ shame of losin’ out to a whore when I get that agent’s seat.”

“That’s my girl. Now, shall we try this again, this time properly?”

They kicked each other’s asses all over the mat for the next hour until, bruised and exhausted, Eggsy had to clean up and report for dinner with the other candidates. Roxy didn’t even try to hide her glare when Charlie joined them in the small dining room. Rufus and Digby both echoed Charlie’s superior smirk, and Eggsy concluded he’d told them about her mother’s history, and probably about her reaction earlier. Eggsy just ate their looks up, letting them fuel the rage burning in her gut. Harry had been right – she’d practically lived on fury and hate for years while under Dean’s thumb. This might be a different flavor, but it was ultimately the same thing.

“Choke it down,” she murmured to Roxy. “We touch any of ‘em outside of sparring and we’re out – no chance at being _anything_ within Kingsman.”

“But he’s free to do and say what he wants?” she hissed back.

“As long as he keeps his hands to himself, yeah. Who’s his grandfather? That seemed to get to him.”

“Chester King – Arthur,” she whispered back. “I remember them from some social engagements when I was younger. I do believe he’s Charlie’s sponsor.”

“Oh, that figures. Our best bet is to just keep doin’ what we been doin’, an’ keep kickin’ all their arses at everything they throw at us.”

Roxy gave all three a slow, contemptuous once over and nodded. “That should not prove difficult.”

It was both true and not at the same time. Their tasks grew more difficult themselves, but if the two of them had to work harder, then so did Charlie and his lackies. The agility course that they were introduced to actually proved to be pretty fun for Eggsy, and certainly explained how quickly James and Harry had been able to pick up free running. Eggsy again was able to take the lead in something, though for once Charlie was in second place rather than Roxy. Eggsy solved that problem by taking Roxy into the gym and starting her on gymnastics – the gym was pleasantly equipped with bars, rings, pommel horse and a balance beam. Though she had to keep it to basics, Eggsy worked her on the moves every chance they got. The second time they faced the agility course, Roxy was able to manage the climbing and jumping needed much better, though Charlie still narrowly edged her out in time. By the third, Roxy beat him by a solid five seconds, putting him in third place once again.

As August came to a close, they were informed of their final hand to hand test, which would not be against their trainers but against the best hand to hand specialist that Kingsman offered: Agent Galahad. Eggsy stared at Merlin when he made that announcement, wondering if that was standard or if, just maybe, Harry had done a tad bit of finagling. She didn’t dare ask Merlin if that was the case, since she didn’t want to play up the fact that Harry had been one of her first instructors, and someone against whom she had routinely sparred against in case it raised any questions that they wouldn’t want to answer.

She _did_ ask James, however.

“Oh yes,” James answered airily. “It’s quite standard. Naturally, the best hand to hand person has changed over the years, but Harry has held that role for quite some time and is in little danger of losing it. Typically, when a new agent shows a particular aptitude for something, during their year’s apprenticeship they receive extra training from whoever the established agent is that specializes in that area. For myself, I am particularly adept at bomb defusing. Percival is our ace safe cracker. Tristan, our dearly retired brother, specialized in break-ins – high security facilities routinely received visits from him and never knew it.” He patted her hand. “I do believe you may follow his footsteps in that. Between your size and agility, it may be an ideal area for you to specialize in.”

She nodded and looked down at the French text she was supposed to be translating. “Harry won’t… _do_ anything to Charlie that could get him in hot water, will he?”

“Not at all,” James assured her. “This is a no holds barred test, as Merlin said. You, as well as Mr. Hesketh, can expect Harry to do everything in his power to beat you into the ground, all under Merlin’s judging eye. Any agent is free to observe, as I certainly intend to do.” He rustled his newspaper noisily as he turned the page, a small smile twitching his lips. “It’s just as well you got him over his tendency to treat you with kids gloves, however, or this would come as quite a shock to you.” The smile twisted in remembrance. “It certainly did to _me_ , I can tell you.”

The day of the test all six candidates filed into the gym. Harry was already waiting passively in the middle of the mat, hands lax at his sides, dressed in simple black combat fatigues and a wonderfully tight t-shirt. On the sidelines, James, Percival, Arthur, and one other agent that Eggsy hadn’t seen before were waiting to observe.

“Today, you will be tested against the finest hand to hand specialist that Kingsman has to offer: Agent Galahad. You are not expected to win, though if you do, I will be incredibly impressed. The only rule for the day is no weapons. This is to test your ability to fight when no weapons are available. If any of you thought to bring an extra little something to lend yourself an edge – discard it. Failure to do so will get you removed automatically.” Merlin swept that unimpressed gaze over the six of them.

Hugo raised his hand. “Won’t he get tired? I mean, the last one to go is going to have an easier time of it after he’s already fought five of us,” he said when Merlin nodded at him.

Merlin actually cracked a smile. “That’s adorable. And that makes you first – wouldn’t want anyone to say you’d had an easy go of it, after all.”

Eggsy could practically hear him cussing himself out as he approached Harry on the mat. Merlin didn’t do anything so dramatic or official sounding as calling the start. There were no trophies on the other side of this. He just observed.

Eggsy tried to watch as impartially as she could. She didn’t want to mention it, but she was at a bit of a disadvantage at the moment. Harry didn’t typically wear a t-shirt so form fitting. And when he turned his back to her, she was able to see the wonderful things the combat fatigues did for his arse – and she’d thought she’d grown at least a bit immune, thanks to the bespoke suit pants!

Hugo lasted a solid two minutes against him, mostly by evading and trying for quick, darting swipes. He still ended up on his back with Harry’s elbow driving into his throat, stopping millimeters shy of crushing his windpipe.

“Pass,” Merlin allowed, making a note on his ever-present clipboard. “It’s recommended that you practice more, however, as that was the bare minimum requirement for this test.” A shaken Hugo nodded and moved off to the side. “Eggsy, you’re up.”

Eggsy stepped to the mat, instantly wary. As she did, she heard a derisive snicker from Charlie and – “Oh dear, a lover’s spat! Galahad is going to be cut off for a bit when he wipes the floor with her,” followed by the juvenile chuckles from his minions. Her eyes narrowed and her determination to show just what the fuck she was capable of stiffened her spine. She circled Harry cautiously, eyes on his body not for pleasure but for clues. A barely there flicker in his eyes was all the warning she got before he was lashing out in a low sweep intended to take her legs out from under her. She threw herself into a backflip to avoid both the leg sweep and the follow-up high kick. She turned the landing into a fast leap to the side to keep out of his direct line of sight as his kick finished and was able to land a spinning kick to his kidney. Harry turned with the kick to lesson the force and spun with a fist aimed for her face. She folded back, letting it pass over her without landing. She caught the faintest hint of a smile before Harry _really_ laid into her.

It ended in one of her rare stalemates against him. He pulled his palm strike to her nose before it could drive the bone up into her brain, and she pulled the force of her finger strike to his throat before it could crush his windpipe. They would need a frame by frame replay to see whose strike would have landed first.

“Bloody well done, Eggsy!” Merlin called. “Hugo, I suggest you practice with Eggsy, if she’s agreeable.”

Eggsy made her way back to Roxy’s side, breathing fast and dripping sweat. “Ow,” she mumbled, rubbing the forming bruise on her thigh from a truly vicious kick that had landed. She had several more bruises, but that one was the worst, and was going to make the morning’s run a misery. “How long was that?” she breathed to Roxy.

“Seven minutes,” Roxy breathed back, grimacing when Merlin called her name. Eggsy gave her a fast thumb’s up as she took her turn on the mat. Roxy was fast and nimble and knew better than to get within pinning distance of Harry’s long reach. But she’d made the mistake of putting her hair in a ponytail rather than pinning it up to her head as Eggsy had done, which left Harry a convenient handle. It meant a face to the knee for her, though to her credit she fought through the stars that had to be speckling her vision and managed to land a nasty elbow to Harry’s stomach. She made it a solid four minutes before Harry threw her on her stomach and grabbed her head in both hands. He jerked her head slightly in a move that, completed, would have broken her neck.

Rufus and Digby, who tended to be fairly even in their scores, again scored similar with 3 minutes apiece.

Charlie was last. He should have several advantages: he was younger, fresher, and had observed Harry fighting five other people. Eggsy thought he did fairly well, actually. He skated by with the minimum two minute time before a literal kick to his arse landed him on hands and knees, followed by a kick to the stomach that flipped him over entirely, with a finishing stomp to the chest that, had Harry used his full strength, could easily have _crushed_ his sternum. As it was, Charlie lay gaping on the floor, unable to breathe for quite some time before his shocked diaphragm began working again. Everyone just stood around and watched until, red-faced and audibly gasping, he eventually dragged himself to his feet and wobbled off the mat. Eggsy risked a glance at the watchers. James looked incredibly pleased, as did Percival. Arthur, however, looked constipated.

“Congratulations, you’ve all passed. I recommend, however, that you all continue to work with the trainers. You’ll each receive an individual report detailing your weaknesses. Now then, if you’ll all follow me, we’ll report to medical to make sure none of you are hiding any fractures. Galahad,” he added sternly, “that means you as well. You’re due out of country soon and it does no good to tough it out for something that can be postponed if needed.”

They were a sorry looking bunch that staggered after Merlin through the complex under the manor to medical. A small army of nurses descended on them, and Eggsy scowled to see Nancy among them. To her relief, however, Nancy took charge of Hugo rather than herself, leaving Eggsy in the care of a nurse she didn’t know. She went gladly into her own little curtained off cubicle and stripped off the spandex capri pants she wore, getting her first good look at the deep bruise that had already turned an unpleasant, dark purple. The nurse tutted a bit, gave her a tube of arnica and an ice pack, then checked the rest of her over. Her left wrist was also slightly swollen and bruising, so that got a brace and an ice pack as well. She limped out to wait and was joined by Roxy a few minutes later, sporting the stiff tape that spoke loudly of a broken nose. She pressed an ice pack to her face and made a very careful grimace of sympathy when she saw Eggsy’s iced wrist and the bulge under her pants where the ice pack rested.

Harry came out of his own cubicle bearing his own wrist splint and shook his finger at her. “Ta ever so much for the sprained wrist, Eggsy. These things are beastly uncomfortable in heat and humidity I’ll have you know.”

Eggsy waved her wrist and pointed at her thigh. “You’re one to talk! I gotta run the course with these in a couple days, might take a few seconds off my time!”

“Wait, you fought the four of us with a sprained wrist, and we _still_ didn’t last longer than four minutes with you?” Roxy said, ridiculously nasal voice astonished.

“You learn to fight through the pain, because there will come a time that it’s either do so or fail,” Harry said flatly. He nodded at Eggsy. “I gave her both of those within the first minute of our match. Push through or die, Miss Morton. It’s an unpleasant reality of this job.”

Roxy nodded seriously.

Charlie came barreling out of his cubicle. He was shirtless, letting everyone see the deep, deep bruising over his stomach and chest. “This is bullshit,” he raged, getting right up in Harry’s face. “There is no fucking way that little slag is that good. You took it easy on her, you _let_ her get those hits in, you _let_ her fight you to a stalemate! You should _never_ have been permitted to administer the test to her when everyone knows you’re fucking her!”

Harry’s face remained calm as he looked past Charlie to Merlin. “Would you care to educate him or shall I?”

“No need. Arthur?” Merlin tapped his glasses. “Would you be so kind as to come down to medical for a few moments? Thank you, sir.”

A few minutes later, not just Arthur, but James, Percival and the unknown agent trooped in. By then, Hugo, Rufus, and Digby were finished with their exams and were waiting as well.

Charlie seemed to think he had all the power. He looked at Chester and stabbed his finger at Harry. “He went easy on that little pleb. You were there, you saw it! There’s no way she could be that good! This test was rigged so he could keep his little side piece hanging around –“

“Hold your tongue!” Chester hissed. Charlie’s mouth closed with a snap. “I have seen Galahad fighting for twenty years. He performed his duty correctly. The girl earned her grade. As did you,” he finished with disgust. “And now you humiliate yourself _and_ me in this manner? You will apologize, Charles. **Now**.”

“I – I.” Charlie swallowed, face pale as he stared at his grandfather. He turned to Harry. “I apologize,” he gritted out. He may as well have been chewing glass for how pained uttering the words made him sound. Harry simply raised a disdainful eyebrow.

“You will apologize properly, like the gentleman you were raised to be, or you will leave,” Chester warned.

Swallowing again and hands fisting at his sides, Charlie ducked his head slightly. “I apologize, sir, for accusing you of rigging the test.”

“Do not disgrace me again, boy.” With that final admonishment Chester turned and stalked out.

Rufus and Digby crowded around Charlie in an attempt to console him. Charlie just huffed off to the other side of the med bay, arms folded and looking furious. By contrast, the three agents that had followed Chester in all looked amused. The unknown agent took Hugo off to the side to speak quietly, while Percival and James came over. Percival immediately took Roxy in a short hug. “You did an amazing job, kiddo,” he murmured. “But you need to watch the hair.”

James was less tender, and poked Eggsy in the thigh. “Honestly, Eggsy, I’d think you would be faster by now. How bad is it?”

She slapped his hand away. “Bad enough I don’t want you pokin’ at it! What the fuck, James?”

He reached to poke her wrist and got slapped away again. “You’ll have fun on the obstacle course.”

“No shit. An’ if you don’t stop pokin’ me, I’m gonna key your car, swear down!”

James actually stepped back, frowning at her. “That’s a bit much, Eggsy, really.”

“Then stop provoking her,” Harry told him.


	10. Chapter 10

Eggsy was really looking forward to the skydiving, although she could tell that Roxy was most definitely _not_. There was a definite tightness to her voice, and her eyes widened in barely leashed panic whenever the topic came up. Eggsy pulled her aside the day before. “What’s up with you, Roxy? You ain’t got this way about anything else we’ve had to do. Why’s the skydiving thing fuckin’ with you?”

“I hate it. I hate the whole idea of it. Why would I want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane?” She gripped Eggsy’s arm, fingertips digging in like claws. “I don’t like falling. What if something goes wrong? There’s _nothing_ you can do!”

“Oi, hey, take it easy, yeah? There’s plenty you can do. You know you can adjust your speed and angle of descent. There’s always a back-up parachute. And tomorrow, right, we’re going down as a group. Keep next to me. Shit happens, I’ll be right there and you can grab onto me.”

Roxy’s grip relaxed a bit and she nodded.

Up in the plane the next day, it was like their little talk never happened. Roxy was backed againt the plane wall, gripping onto whatever was in reach, breathing fast and panicked. They got the cue to line up and Eggsy had to grab her hand and pry it from a support strut to get her into position. Charlie, probably inadvertently helped by knocking by them with a smart comment about showing them how it’s done. “Oh, come the fuck on. Seriously, Roxy, you gonna let that wanker show you up?”

A teeny tiny spark of her usual moxie sparked in her eyes and get her to the edge of the jump door. Eggsy turned her back to the door and met her eyes. “You can do this, Roxy. You an’ me, yeah? Watch me.” Eggsy spread her arms wide and tipped backwards out of the plane. With a whoop as her stomach swooped pleasantly, Eggsy gave herself up to the fall, flipping her body into somersaults and dives, calling out for Roxy to join her.

Much less joyously, Roxy made the jump. Eggsy could hear her fast breathing through the speaker of her halo suit. Even the guys were whooping and spinning, playing mid-air.

“You’re all very cheerful,” Merlin began in their ears before instilling absolute terror in every one of them by telling them someone had no parachute. Eggsy had to shout to be heard over the swearing. “Listen! I got a plan, yeah. Pair up! Grab the nearest person to you and hang on, then we pull the cords when it’s time.” Everyone started aiming for the nearest person to them. Roxy’s late jump combined with the general acrobatics of the group had put her further from Eggsy than Eggsy would have liked. Roxy was stuck with Hugo, while the nearest to Eggsy was Rufus. Whatever, at least it wasn’t Charlie –

“Uh uh, I can’t!” Rufus said, just before their hands would have clasped. He reached back and pulled his ‘chute open, flying up and away.

“Rufus, you wanker!” she shrieked before she could stop it. “Get in a circle. We pull our cords one by one. When we know who’s fucked, the person on the right grabs them. Go!”

The wind rushing in her ears wasn’t the fun soundtrack to adventure that it had been at the start as they all maneuvered into place. Huge, then Digby, and finally Charlie pulled their cords, leaving Roxy and Eggsy desperately clinging to each other’s hands as they spun. “We got this, Roxy!” she yelled, trying to keep Roxy focused on her. “Whatever happens, I got you, yeah? You first, pull your cord!” Eggsy did her bet to keep her eyes on their aim, dead set on hitting that target one way or another. Roxy fumbled a bit, clumsy with her fear, but finally found the cord as their alarms started blaring the altitude alert. She pulled it and their bodies jerked as their speed was abruptly slowed. Eggsy couldn’t stifle the shriek that harmonized with Roxy’s when she very nearly lost her grip on the other girl. She clambered ungracefully to get her legs wrapped around Roxy, listening and swearing as they rushed, still too fast thanks to double the body weight, on the parachute.

Still, shrieking or not, they landed right in the middle of the target. They laughed the semi-hysterical laughter of those who have narrowly escaped death, alternating hugging and rolling blissfully on the stable, so reliable ground. They clambered out of the way only when they saw Charlie coming in for his own landing.

A short time later, all six of them were lined up in a silent line facing Merlin. Rufus was out for pulling too soon – ha! Typical! – and being all over the radar. Neither Digby nor Hugo had landed on the K and were out as well. All the while Merlin was speaking, Eggsy was thinking – thinking how, out of all the posh, upper class folk in the group, it was the lower class person with no parachute. Anger coiled low in her gut, because of course why would they risk one of their own? But she did what Harry had advised and swallowed it, added it to the hard ball of fury that had formed there when she was younger, and fed so much by Charlie and his friends over the last months. The only sign of it was the coldness of her gaze as she processed it into something she could use to fuel her for the future.

She turned when Merlin dismissed them, intent only on a shower and change of clothing. “Eggsy! A moment, if you please,” Merlin called her back.

She turned, face as bland as she could make it. “Sir?”

“Do you have something to say to me?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Not that I can think of.”

“Hmm. Because I think you do.” He tapped his ear. “Go ahead – whisper it in my ear.”

“I ain’t got nothing t’ say t’ you, bruv.”

He walked right over to her. “I prefer honesty, Eggsy.”

“An’ I just said I ain’t got nothing t’ say t’ you.” She didn’t appreciate his looming. Dean had loved to loom over her. So did Charlie for that matter. A lot of men did, using their height and usually greater bulk to try to intimidate. She squared her shoulders against it, ready to defend herself if he did something stupid. He darted his hand around her side, which was _not_ what she expected, so her dodge didn’t prevent his objective, which was to apparently open her parachute – which she actually had, and which caught the wind and pulled her backwards several feet to land on her back. Which – oh. Okay then. Psychological tricks – good to know. She picked herself up and gave him a flat, unfriendly look. “Good t’ know we can’t trust anythin’ you say. An’ if you touch me again outside of medical necessity, we’s gonna have words.” His jaw dropped as she turned to be on her way.

Roxy was more relieved than angry to know about the parachute, though just as thrilled that they were willing to play mind games. On the one hand yeah, it made sense. They had to believe that one of them was fucked to induce a real stress response, see how they reacted. Rufus pulling too early, saving his own hide, and Digby and Hugo losing their cool and unable to land in the target, were all things they had to know before they could be in the field. On the other hand, Merlin could have told them she could pull her cord, add the second parachute to slow their descent, as it had been a miracle that they hadn’t broken any bones with the force of their landing. It definitely made them both more cautious, more suspicious, of Merlin.

A few weeks after the parachute test, Merlin gathered all three of them together and handed out envelopes. She was not best pleased to get a picture and a brief dossier on a young woman with instructions to seduce her – at no point had anyone mentioned that honeypots were an actual, real life thing. She played it off with Merlin and Charlie watching, but inside she was incredibly conflicted.

She left as soon as she reasonably could to wander the manor, hoping to dispel some of the discomfort twisting her up inside. She bumped into Harry, and for the first time, actually considered turning around and walking away. She took too long to make the choice and Harry spotted her. “Eggsy? What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he saw her face. He picked up his pace to reach her side and cupped her elbow, thumb doing a little swipe over the sensitive skin on the inside that just – undid her. With a sigh, she held up the file. Harry took it and read it over swiftly. “Ah. What, specifically, is bothering you about this assignment?”

“Couple things, I guess. NLP – it’s useful, yeah, I get that. I’m second only to Roxy at this point in that area. But I don’t like the idea of picking up and shagging some girl for a test – using her,” she said quietly. “I know I ain’t gonna be promisin’ more’n a night of fun, an’ most folks go to clubs lookin’ for just that so. But I ain’t ever been dishonest with anyone I been with, cause it’s just a shitty thing to do. An’ I don’t, I really fuckin’ don’t, like the idea of Kingsman tellin’ me who to fuck. Dean tried that shit with me when I was sixteen, an’ I damn near gutted _him_ for it. Thought honeypots was just a movie thing.” She met Harry’s eyes reluctantly. “Is it sick that I’m easier with the thought of being told to kill someone than fuck them?”

Harry pursed his lips, regarding her seriously. With the hand on her elbow, he guided her over to a padded window seat, pulling her down beside him. “There is much about this life that is dirty,” he said quietly. “I won’t pretend otherwise. I will say, however, that having to sleep with someone to get the job done is at the agent’s discretion. Quite often, there are other ways to reach the objective. The times where seduction has been the method by which the object – planting a bug or obtaining information, typically – has been the _only_ method have been exceptionally rare, in my experience. I have found myself in that position twice in my entire career.”

Eggsy frowned, really not liking the idea of Harry doing that. “An’ did it. I mean. How did you. Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m asking,” she sighed.

“How did it make me feel, and how did I deal with that?” he guessed. She nodded. That was close enough. “When it happened, the choices were to use violence to get where I needed to be, or use the gentler method. Had the targets found out that our encounter was for a purpose other than fun, they would have been emotionally hurt. Had I used violence, they would have been physically and emotionally traumatized. The potential for damage was far less with seduction than with violence. It made it bearable. I understand your concern with this, Eggsy. You’ve seen sex used as a tool, a weapon, and you’ve seen the damage it can do when used as such. There is _nothing_ wrong with not wanting to do that to someone. I can tell you that this young woman,” he held up the photo, “will not be harmed in this, no matter which one of you succeeds in your objective. That is not the goal of this. But if you don’t think you can do it, then there’s nothing wrong with that. There are other places in Kingsman that you’d be well suited to.”

Eggsy took the papers back, studying the photo. “Positions I’d be _better_ suited to?” she asked, not looking up.

“I did not say that. I firmly believe that you have the potential to be one of the best agents Kingsman has ever seen,” Harry said, so firmly that she had to believe him. “But if you think the damage this would do to you is not worth it, then that is the choice you need to make. The job damages us all, one way or another. And there may well come a day when you can no longer take the damage. It happens. Our previous Tristan retired. Has anyone told you why?” She shook her head. “Children were hurt. Not by his hand, and he most certainly took care of the people who did the hurting, and it wasn’t the first time he had encountered such atrocities. But he’d reached his limit for taking that damage.”

Eggsy just kept staring at the photo. Harry, thankfully, stayed silent by her side, letting her think. “Comes down to me taking the damage or someone else,” she said finally. “I can do that. Mum did it for years, with Dean. Kept him happy enough he didn’t try it on with me – kept him from kickin’ me out when I wouldn’t whore for ‘im, kept me fed. I took his fists, an’ that was far fuckin’ easier. An’ if it’s me, it ain’t someone else who’d drown with it, or worse – revel in it,” she added, thinking of Charlie. “Cause they’d be fine if the other person was hurt out the other side of it.” She leaned forward to rest her head on his chest, just for a few moments. “Thanks, Harry.”

He put his hand on the back of her neck, warm and anchoring. “There are times,” he said low, like a confession, “when I wish you had never heard of Kingsman. This job will hurt you, Eggsy, and I can’t keep that from happening, though I wish I could. But you are strong enough to bear it, and compassionate enough not to let it harden and twist you, and Kingsman needs that.”

She straightened up and gave him a crooked smile. “Then Kingsman will get that,” she said simply. She shifted so she could lean her shoulder against his, still needing the contact but not able to trust that she wouldn’t just climb into his lap if she tried to hug him or something. It wasn’t quite time yet. “Tell me somethin’ else. How’s mum _really_ doing? Last few times we talked, she’s been cagey ‘bout somethin’. An’ James is just as bad. Is her job given her shit or are they just finally datin’ proper?”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “I told him to just tell you. He claimed to be worried that it would distract you from your training, however I do believe he simply didn’t want you to kick his arse all over HQ where our peers would be able to see.”

“Is mum’s history gonna be a problem? I know you said James’d work it out, but I get the feelin’ that Arthur ain’t the trustin’ type – specially when it comes to the low born.”

Harry pursed his lips. “This really should be James discussing this with you….” She gave him a flat look. “Very well. As I understand it, they had as frank a discussion as they were able, considering she does not and will not have clearance to know everything. She understands classified very well and accepts the limitations of what he is able to say. She also agreed that, for security reasons, she would be evaluated by a Kingsman psychologist, who agreed that her confidentiality was ironclad. She’ll be passively monitored, as we all are to a certain degree, but that is it. They are courting.”

“I thought so. Took ‘em a while, but that’s okay. Better to take the time to make sure you can both invest proper than jumpin’ in an’ finding rocks at the bottom you didn’t see comin’. He waited til she was well an’ out an’ back on her feet. Sometimes, you just gotta wait until it’s the right time.” She gave Harry a small, evil little smile. “Don’t tell ‘im that I know. Wanna see how much I can make ‘im sweat before he tells me himself. Bet you a tenner I can make him beg on his knees.”

Harry tried to frown reprovingly but a smirk won out. “Wicked girl,” he said fondly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna preface this chapter by mentioning the graphic sex. I don't often write out the sex scenes, but this one apparently demanded it. So. There's also a scene that's mostly written that I've cut, since it was really kind of dragging and didn't do much to move the story to where I plan for it to go, so if enough folks would like, I'll finish it up and post it as a side fic/extended scene. Enjoy, hopefully!

Eggsy circled the seating area where their target, Sophie, sat. The club was more high end than she was used to, and included white jacket clad waitstaff walking around with glasses of champagne, as well as four separate bars where other beverages could be obtained. Eggsy snagged one of the champagne flutes as camouflage while she observed Charlie’s bold approach. She was just close enough to hear him trying to neg her – something about how she must be wearing colored contacts rather than it being her natural eye contact. Roxy was quick to move in, instantly blowing his game and making herself an automatic ally. Roxy’s approach was better, and had the added benefit of casting shade on Charlie. Eggsy went a different, more neutral route – she’d rather stay as honest as she could with this. Pretending to sip at her glass, she planted herself on the low table, leaning back on one hand to subtly highlight her figure in the clothes she’d chosen: black leather pants with little slits in them to show skin on her thighs, knee high, flat heeled boots (thanks for the lesson, Sarah!) and a silver corset style top that left her smooth, toned arms on display and pushed her breasts up. “Is it just me, or is this champagne a bit shit?” she wondered, making eye contact and giving a small, conspiratorial little smile.

Charlie of course jumped in to name the NLP technique she was basing her approach on, trying to knock her down in Sophie’s eyes right away. Eggsy was frustrated that he couldn’t tell that all the conflicting arguing between him and Roxy and now her were just confusing the poor woman, who gave every evidence of thinking they were all crazy. Eggsy affected a confused air herself and waved her glass. “I just asked a question, bruv. Dunno know what you’re on about.” She gave Sophie a questioning look, as though asking the other woman to fill her in. If she did it right, Sophie would agree to leave the crazy people behind and they could talk about how weird they’d been acting, and the strange crap they’d been talking about.

A waiter interrupted with a phone call for her, so Eggsy shifted next to Roxy to wait for her to return. The strange smile on the waiter’s face set her on edge. “There’s an easier way to get someone to leave with you,” he said, almost gleeful. “Rohypnol! Or maybe even something stronger.” Beside her, Roxy made a confused sound and tipped sideways. Further down, Charlie did the same. Eggsy leaped up and flung the glass of champagne in his face, grabbed his tray while he was distracted, and bashed it over his head. She felt a small sting on the back of her neck before she could follow it up with a punch or knee to the face. When she clapped her hand to her neck, she felt a tiny dart sticking out of her neck. “What the fuck….”

Terror swamped her mind when the blackness receded and she felt the restraints around her wrists and ankles. She twisted, trying to get a feel for the rope’s slack as she opened her eyes to look around her. The waiter was standing above her, still wearing that creepy smirk. “What the fuck you doin’! Let me go!” she snarled.

The man held a knife up. “This could save your life,” he taunted. “I have two questions for you, Eggsy. Who is James Atherton and what is Kingsman?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about! Let me go, you psychotic fuck!” She was in a tunnel. She was in a train tunnel, tied to the tracks, and she could hear a train coming. Her ability to think was rapidly diminishing, and she tried to dislocate her thumb, hoping it would give her room to slip the rope over her hand.

“Hey Eggsy, is Kingsman really worth dying for?” the man called as the train got louder.

“Fuck you!” she shrieked, with the train nearly on top of her. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping it would be fast enough not to feel.

The train became a thunder that seemed to last forever, then faded rapidly into the distance. Her body jolted and slowly, she squinted one eye open. James was grinning down at her. “What the fuckin’ hell was that,” she breathed.

“A job bloody well done, Eggsy!” James cheered. He bent to cut her free, then helped her to her feet.

She rubbed her wrists, looking down where the train had gone. The whole thing – Sophie, being tied to the tracks, the demand for information – had been another bloody test. Just not the one she’d thought. “How did Roxy and Charlie do?”

“Roxy’s passed. Charlie is next. Would you care to watch?”

“Yeah okay.”

James led her to an observation room, where Roxy was waiting, tucked close to Percival. Merlin sat in the chair, and to her pleasure, Harry was there as well, standing out of the way in the corner. He looked a bit apprehensive when he met her eyes, which she didn’t get. She tried a small smile. “This ain’t improved my opinion on night clubs, that’s for fuckin’ sure!” Some of the tension eased out of him and he walked over to stand at her side.

Harry took off his suit jacket and swung it around her shoulders. “You were spectacular, my dear. From beginning to end. I suspect Richard – the interrogator,” he clarified with a nod towards the tracks, “has an incredible headache.”

“As well he should, druggin’ young women in clubs,” she said with a prim little sniff.

“How did you know the champagne was drugged?” Roxy asked. “I didn’t taste anything wrong with it.”

“Neither did I. I just don’t drink in clubs. Roofied once is more than enough.”

“That might have been good information to know,” Merlin grumped. “Could have saved Richard one hell of a headache.”

“I ain’t drawin’ a target on my soft spots for you, Merlin. You like your job a bit too much as is,” she snipped.

Any other conversation was brought to a halt when Chester King walked in the door, heavy coat swirling dramatically about his calves. His gaze fell on her and she could practically feel the frustration and disgust rolling off of him. It wasn’t much happier when he looked at Roxy, so there was that, at least. In reaction, she tucked her arms through the sleeves of Harry’s suit jacket and leaned back against James, staking her claim on both her place and her people as loudly as she could without tattooing them.

Then she turned with interest to watch out the window with Merlin and the rest as Charlie was carried to the tracks and tied down. Richard stooped down when Charlie was secure and gave him a fast injection. “Counter to our sedative,” James explained quietly to her. “Should wake him up in about a minute.

Sure enough, Charlie tensed and began pulling at his bonds in short order. Richard assumed the threatening stance and psychotic grin that he’d used on her and demanded information on Chester King and Kingsman. When he asked if Kingsman was worth dying for, Charlie vomited as much information as he could in between frantic looks at where the train was coming from. Chester King snarled in wordless fury as he stalked out of the room.

On the tracks, Charlie attempted to apologize when he looked up from his terrified curl to see himself both alive and staring at his furious grandfather and almost-but-not-anymore-boss. The contempt in Chester’s voice as he left his grandson behind nearly curdled Eggsy's stomach.

“Well then. Lancelot, Percival, as tradition allows you now have 24 hours to spend with your candidate. Eggsy, you should know your father reached this point,” he added with something almost like compassion.

She’d sort of known that, since her father had died on a trial mission with James, which logically meant that they’d passed all the tests. Still, it was a little jarring to hear it spoken so bluntly. James squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “We should go. 24 hours isn’t as much time as it sounds. Harry, will you be joining us?”

“Thank you, James. If Eggsy doesn’t mind?”

“Oh come off it, you know I don’t. Let’s go – I wanna get outta these clothes. This top ain’t as comfortable as it looks.”

“It doesn’t look terribly comfortable at all, actually,” James said. “Attractive, yes, comfortable, no.”

“Exactly.”

They were quiet as the made the trip back to London, Eggsy curled in one of the seats on the train, still tucked inside Harry’s jacket. When they reached the shop, she was surprised to see that it was morning rather than the middle of the night. She started to give Harry back his jacket to ward off the cold of the December weather, but he just shook his head and buttoned it for her. Since there was a cab waiting outside for them, she didn’t object. The cab was instructed to take them to Harry’s place and something in her relaxed a little. His house was the closest thing to home she had. She was even looking forward to seeing Mr. Pickle again, odd as the little dog was.

JB was waiting for them and she sent Harry a blinding grin in thanks for taking the little dog in during the long night. JB didn’t like to sleep alone. She spent a couple minutes giving scratches to the wheezing little beast, then straightened with a groan. “Dunno what’s in them darts, but I am knackered. Can I get a shower and change before we start on whatever we’s supposed to do?”

“Of course, Eggsy,” James assured. “We have no set agenda. Take your time. You’ve had a long year.”

“Ain’t I just,” she agreed. She slipped the jacket from her shoulders and passed it back to Harry. “Thanks. This thing ain’t as warm as it looks.” He smiled at her, eyes doing a fast up/down flicker that had her straightening her shoulders just a bit in reaction – make sure he was seeing it to best effect. With that, she turned and dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time in her eagerness to get into something of her own – something that said home.

Showering in true privacy was bliss, and she indulged maybe a little longer than she should have. But the hot water felt heavenly, washing away the remnants of fear sweat and the phantom hands that she knew had touched her while she was unconscious. She knew nothing untoward had happened – she trusted James and Harry enough to feel certain of that, but she couldn’t help the faint ghost panic from when she’d been fifteen and coming out of the rohypnol dose, confused and afraid until Brandon and Jamal had been able to assure her that they’d gotten to her before the man could do anything. She reveled in the scent of her shampoo – the same expensive one that Harry had bought for her when he’d first found her and taken her to Kingsman medical. She washed twice with the body wash that he’d also chosen, and then stopped, realizing that so many of her favorite things, the ones that spoke of safety and home, the things that gave her the most pleasure, were things of Harry’s. The shampoo and body wash he’d chosen for her. His home. Even her new job – and fuck Chester anyway, it was definitely _her_ job, no matter how he felt about it – was largely at Harry’s choice.

Sudden doubt brought her to her knees in the water. How much of her life was her own choosing, and how much was she doing just to please Harry, because he’d saved her, taken care of her? She loved him – she did, she didn’t doubt her own feelings on _that_. But had she given up her own desires to please him? That kind of life, with her giving up the things she wanted and dreamed, couldn’t last. She had been subjected to grueling training, even periods of intense terror where she’d believed completely that her life was in danger, and could she even know if it was for her own sake or for his?

She turned her face up into the spray, letting the hot water needle almost painfully into her as she tried to think. The time was coming, very soon now, when she would be in a position to make her feelings perfectly clear to the man. Had she done everything just to please him, to make herself into something she thought he wanted her to be, someone he could want in his life _and_ his bed?

She shook, even under the heat of the water, until the doubt and panic finally left her. Because no. No she hadn’t. She’d needed to be independent, she was certain of that. She would have needed that no matter who she wanted to be with, since she’d seen what dependence could turn into with her mother. And Harry himself had wanted that for her, even if he’d been overprotective in the beginning. He’d let her forge ahead on her own, supporting and encouraging, but never really guiding unless she’d asked for advice. And even with Kingsman, he’d allowed her to make her own choices, because it wasn’t up to him and he knew that. He’d given her as much information as he could so she could make her own choices, _informed_ choices, the entire time.

And most importantly of all she realized, even if he rejected her, if he didn’t want her romantically, she still wouldn’t change a thing. She would continue with Kingsman and she would do her absolute best, because there were the Deans of the world, smarter and more powerful but just as sick and evil at their core, that needed to be stopped, and she had the will and the knowledge and the skill now to stop them. If she had known a fraction of what she knew now when Dean was first sniffing around, he never would have gotten the hold on them that he’d had.

The water was beginning to cool slightly when she straightened from her crouch. Something in her was settled that she hadn’t even been quite aware of having been otherwise this whole time. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped one of the huge, plush towels that she’d missed – color was a boring brown, but she couldn’t fault its thick softness – and stared at herself in the slightly fogged over mirror. It had been a long time since she’d last really given herself a lookover. She was leaner than she’d been a year ago, which made sense. Their physical training had been intense, leaving her muscles even more defined than even her previous exercise regime had done. Her hair was longer as well, falling down to her shoulder blades. But there was also a different sort of confidence now. She wasn’t fighting against all evidence to the contrary for anyone to see her as something worthwhile, something more than a drug running chav from the estates. She felt settled in her skin like never before, and she really liked that.

Harry wasn’t going to know what hit him.

Humming lightly to herself, she padded into her room and picked through her clothes for her favorite jeans and the soft black sweater that she was in the mood for. She slipped her pendant and earrings out of their little box, then wandered back downstairs, still brushing her hair. “Smells good,” she observed, finding both men in the kitchen fixing plates of eggs and bacon. Harry turned with a smile, pausing for just a moment when he saw her, then finished the motion to hand her a plate.

“I thought you might be hungry, considering the long night.”

“I wasn’t til I smelled all this, but now!” She snagged the plate gratefully, feeling her stomach gurgle with want. “Fuck me, I missed this,” she sighed, shoving a piece of bacon in her mouth right off. “Don’t care how good the cooks are at Kingsman, they ain’t got a patch on you.”

Laughing, Harry grabbed her shoulders and gave her a little push towards the small kitchen table that he generally only used for informal breakfasts. “Sit, Eggsy. There is plenty, you needn’t stand about inhaling your food as though someone plans to snatch it.”

She slid into her usual chair, pointing at James as she did. “You sure? Cause he’s stuffing bacon in his gob like it’s a race.”

Harry whirled back and smacked James over the back of the head. “Control yourself, heathen! That is for Eggsy. You are _not_ the one who has been busting your arse for a year with no access to homecooked food.”

“I beg your pardon, but I helped _cook_ this food,” James said indignantly.

“You boiled the kettle. Knock it off.”

Pouting, James gathered his own, more modestly loaded plate, and sulked his way into a chair. Harry set down her mug of tea along with a couple pieces of toast, then joined them with his own breakfast. “Feels good to shower with your own things, doesn’t it,” Harry observed, neatly spreading a napkin over his lap.

“You got no idea, bruv. Those stalls are a bloody joke when you’s in a co-ed dorm,” she grumbled. James paused with his own tea partway to his mouth, eyebrow raised. “Only come to here on me’n Roxy,” she demonstrated with her hand held to just above her breasts, “an’ all them blokes was six foot or better. We showered last whenever we could.”

James thumped the mug back on the table, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Are you telling me that those little buffoons _spied_ on the pair of you while you bathed?”

“Uh, yeah? What’d you’s expect? Roxy’n me, we’s pretty fit, yeah. An’ you had a pack of wannabe alpha males used to takin’ an’ gettin’ whatever they want. Derek and Hugo was okay, but the three douchkateers did it every chance they got, an’ a couple of the others that washed out early.” She shrugged. “We expected it, we dealt with it.” She snickered in remembrance. “Rufus got a bit bold with Roxy, so she hopped up to cop her own look, an’ almost broke something from laughin’ so hard at what she saw. He couldn’t even claim cold cause hot water was never in short supply.”

“That is still unacceptable,” Harry said crisply. “You should have made Merlin aware of this sooner.”

Eggsy blew a raspberry at him. “Nope. We’s dealt with it. Wasn’t gonna be runnin’ to him or anyone else whenever one of ‘em was a wanker – we’d have been complainin’ every day. Let it go,” she advised. “We’re in, they’re out, we proved anything we needed t’ prove to ‘em. An’ every single one of ‘em knows to walk away if they see us on the street, cause we can kick their arses without breakin’ a sweat.”

“Still,” James grumbled. “Bloody little peeping toms. Such behavior has no place in Kingsman.”

Eggsy didn’t point out the irony of that, considering they were professional spies. She just crammed another piece of bacon in her mouth and chewed blissfully. When she was finally full, she leaned back in her chair and propped her feet on Harry’s, toes just brushing his thighs, and contemplated unbuttoning her jeans. She had definitely over eaten, but it had been worth it to see James’ outraged pouting when she’d nicked the last two slices of bacon out from under his fingers. Almost unconsciously, it seemed, Harry dropped one hand down to his side to curl long, callused fingers around her ankle. “So when’s the last test? I know it’s soon.”

Both men stilled, then turned almost identical bland looks towards her. “We aren’t able to tell you anything about the tests,” James admonished.

“I know that. I ain’t asking what it is or for any hints on it. Just wonderin’ how soon it is.” She shrugged. “Not about to fuck it all up _now_ when we’s so close by tryin’ t’ cheat.”

“Soon, as you’d already guessed. Should you and Roxy both pass, as I mentioned, you’ll be sent out with James and Percival on a joint mission as something of a final litmus test. Provided you both perform well, then I expect Kingsman will benefit from having two new agents, not to mention its first two female agents,” Harry told her, giving her ankle a light squeeze.

“Arthur gonna allow that?” she asked bluntly. “He’s posh as they come, an’ he ain’t been subtle in what he thinks o’ me. Charlie came by his attitudes honestly.”

“I expect he did,” James agreed. “However, there’s nothing that Arthur can do to prevent it. That rule is in place for a reason, Eggsy. Kingsman has always striven to be better than other agencies, unhindered by the red tape and politics that bog down traditional government run organizations. It was realized long ago that losing out on true talent to observe _tradition_ would be a foolish waste. Arthur would risk losing his position if he attempted to keep either or both of you from taking your rightful place. The whole organization is kept up to date on the trials. Every agent would demand his resignation if he denied you based on the circumstances of your birth.”

“He is one of the last of a thankfully dying breed,” Harry agreed. “There are still plenty of snobs, but it’s more habit for most of them than a diehard faith. Those I’ve spoken to have been very impressed with both you and Roxy.”

“Well, that’s something, then. Just gotta pass the last test. Let me tell ya, the last couple have been kinda fucked up.”

“You’ll pass,” James said confidently. “You need only remember everything you have learned and trust in both yourself and in us.” He frowned at Harry’s warning look. “Oh shush. That is the exact same thing Merlin told me when I was his proposal and facing the final test. It is sound advice for any situation as well.”

“Let’s talk ‘bout somethin’ else,” Eggsy suggested, wanting to forestall one of their epic bickering sessions. Harry wasn’t in the mood, too anxious to avoid doing anything at the last moment that would ruin things for her, so his barbs would be more vicious than usual. “How’s mum doing? I know we talk, but I’m monitored, so I can’t really get into much with her.” She widened her eyes just a bit as she looked at James, allowing just the faintest hint of worry to cloud them. “I feel like she’s hidin’ somethin’ from me. Is she really okay? Job not givin’ her trouble is it? She used to tell me everythin’,” she finished sadly, looking down and twisting the hem of her sweater in her fingers.

“Oh my dear, of course things are going well for her!” James almost tripped over his own tongue to reassure her. “She’s a bit fussed over not seeing you for so long, of course, but she’s doing very well otherwise.”

“Then what ain’t she sayin’? She ain’t – she ain’t sick or nothin’, is she?” She let her bottom lip wobble, just for a second. She wasn’t naturally a crier, so it wouldn’t do to tip her hand. “Fuck, it’s almost Christmas, we was gonna do Christmas up right this year, remember? What if she ain’t well, an’ I been _gone_ all this time.”

“Oh bollocks.” James actually hurried around the table to kneel in front of her, somehow failing to notice Harry’s aggressively blank face. “Eggsy, your mother isn’t ill. Her job is going well, and she’s enjoying it. She’s made some new friends and is doing very well on her own. It is only that, well, she’s begun seeing someone. Romantically, that is.” He swallowed and captured one of her hands in his. “Eggsy, your mother and I have been dating for about three months, now. She didn’t want you distracted from your job training with worrying over her, so she wished to wait until you’d finished before telling you.”

“Three. Months. You been dating my mum for three months, an’ didn’t tell me. You been lettin’ me worry, hidin’ something so important from me, for **three months**.” She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms. “How _could_ you? I trusted you!”

“Eggsy, dear, please understand! Your mother and I care for each other a great deal,” James pleaded. “And we both care for you. Your mother only wanted you to be able to focus on yourself for a change, after living so long with Baker in your life. We were worried you’d think it was all too fast and –“

Eggsy held her hand out to Harry. “Pay up. I told you I’d do it.” Grumbling, Harry dug his wallet out of his back pocket and slapped a ten into her palm.

James looked back and forth between them, mouth gaping slightly. “What the fuck,” he blurted.

“Mate,” she said kindly, “for an elite spy, you ain’t subtle.”

“And you wagered on…what?” he asked dangerously.

“That I could make you beg on your knees.” Eggsy gestured in a voila motion.

With every bit of his wounded dignity, James climbed to his feet and smoothed the wrinkles from his trousers. “Well,” he said finally, “I was going to permit you to drive my car, but I hardly think I’m going to reward such a thing.”

“Oh bruv, you really think that if I want to drive it that bad I won’t just take it?” She rolled her eyes. “Dean did a fair line in stolen cars, been pinchin’ ‘em since I was sixteen. Coulda had it anytime.”

“That’s not in your record!” James protested.

“My sealed, juvenile record? No it ain’t, ‘cause I liked takin’ ‘em too much to let myself get pinched.”

“She did tell us, remember. You should have known it wasn’t a line,” Harry told him. “You saw the way she drove on the course. Those were not the moves of a rank beginner.”

“Fucks sake,” James muttered. His eyes narrowed. “Still, I think you’re bluffing. My car hardly has regular security features. That vile creature was too low end to have you taking luxury cars.”

Eggsy cocked her head. “Wanna bet?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Eggsy, come now. You’ve had your fun. Do you truly wish to begin such a feud with the man who may well become your new stepfather?”

Eggsy looked at him. Then she looked at James, who was also looking at Harry, mouth open again a bit in shock. Her eyes narrowed. “What,” she began dangerously, “you ain’t considered it might get marriage serious? You just playin’ about with her? I told you what’d happen if you did that, James.”

He whirled on her. “We’ve been dating three months! I most certainly am not trifling with her, but it’s rather too soon to be talking marriage! And at no point did I consider that such a thing would make me your stepfather! That is a rather jarring thought – you are far too terrifying as a protégé, I shudder to think what you’ll be like as a daughter!”

“A fuckin’ delight, bruv,” she told him cheerfully. “A delight that takes your car for a spin whenever she feels like it.”

“You’re a menace. That’s what you are – a menace!”

“A delightful menace.”

“I’ve been thinking the same damn thing since I found her in that warehouse two years ago,” Harry observed, meeting her eyes with something warm and fierce in his gaze that she hugged to her chest and did her best to return. She flexed her toes again, the slightest caress of his leg, and let her smile widen when his thumb stroked over the jut of her ankle bone.

~

Eggsy had barely gotten the stupid boiler suit back on the following day when she was summoned to a meeting. She looked regretfully at her comfy clothes, already wishing to be back in Harry’s cozy home. With a little click of her tongue to tell JB to come, she followed the tech back through HQ to the train. Apparently she was to meet Arthur back in the rooms above the shop to discuss her progress. The last of her feel-good mood dissipated, leaving her petting JB almost continuously to try to stay calm.

Thankfully when Andrew the tailor showed her where she was supposed to be, she found James sitting quietly off to the side as well. She met his eyes with a question in her own, but all he did was nod and keep his face passive. “Sir,” she said, turning her full attention to Arthur.

His return to smile and gesture to sit was far too wide and enthusiastic, instantly ramping up the tension in her stomach. She sat and traded a couple pleasantries about JB, then Arthur grew solemn. “Eggsy, dear girl, I wanted to take this opportunity to speak with you about your father’s time with us here. Has Lancelot or Galahad spoken to you about the circumstances of your father’s passing?”

“A bit,” she admitted cautiously. “I know he sacrificed himself to save Lancelot, Galahad, and Merlin.”

“Indeed he did, though I rather suspect some details have been left out. I think it is only right that you be made aware of the full truth. Now, I do apologize, dear girl, this is somewhat graphic.” Arthur pressed a button on a small remote aimed at the large mirror on the wall. What looked like mission footage began to play, though not from an agent’s glasses feed but what looked like a stationary camera mounted somewhere on a wall. From the corner of her eye, she saw James stiffen and open his mouth like he wanted to protest, but the footage was already playing. Four men in full combat gear, including gas masks, stood around a fourth man dressed in Middle Eastern garb who was be tied to a chair. Someone was speaking, clearly interrogating, and received no response from the man. Two shots were fired, taking out both of the prisoner’s knees. He doubled over in pain. When he straightened up, she heard a voice shout, “Grenade! Get back!” The shooter started towards the prisoner, then the black clad man on his right shoved him out of the way and jumped on the prisoner himself. A second or two later the grenade blew.

Slowly, the remaining men in the room stood. The shooter removed his gas mask. It was Harry. In a voice heavy with regret, he said, “Shit. I missed it. How did I fucking miss it.”

Arthur cut the footage off. He turned to her with a look of sympathy made obscene by the glee hiding behind his eyes. “I know that must have been difficult to watch, dear girl, but I felt it was something you needed to see.”

“True enough,” she said softly. “There were one or two details that were left out of the account I received.” Everything in her was clamped down as tightly as she could. She would _not_ lose control in front of this spiteful old bastard. It felt like even her heartbeat was beating at a very specific, controlled pace, a steady metronome in her ears.

“I wanted you to see before the final test. You can choose to take the test or, if this information changes things for you, you are free to walk away,” Arthur said, again with that fake sympathy in his voice, a pretense at compassion that she wasn’t sure he was even able to feel anymore, if he ever had been.

“I will take the test,” she stated.

“Lancelot.”

Eggsy rose and turned to where James was seated. There was none of his usual brash confidence in his face. It more more…resignation. He expected her to fail now, when he’d been utterly confident of her passing just yesterday. What had he told her? _You need only remember everything you have learned and trust in both yourself and in us_. He thought what Arthur had just shown her would have somehow shaken her faith in them. True enough, she had even less faith in Arthur, but since she hadn’t trusted him from the start, that wasn’t actually a detriment. And it was James who was clearly going to administer the test, so that was definitely not going to hurt her chances of succeeding.

“Eggsy,” James said, producing a gun from his pocket. He handed it to her. “Shoot the dog.”

Her whirling thoughts came to a screeching halt and she froze, hand still extended to accept the weapon. He couldn’t mean it! That wasn’t supposed to happen! She was supposed to move back in with Harry, she was going to spend the next however many years scolding Harry for feeding him table scraps, the way she knew he had done with Mr. Pickle -  Mr. Pickle! Harry had done this and still had eleven years with his little terrier, whom he’d loved so much he hadn’t been able to bury him.

Before second thoughts could invade and make her doubt, she finished grasping the gun, turned, and brought it up in a smooth move, aimed right for JB’s little head. She pulled the trigger, then had to lock her knees to keep from sagging to the floor in tears when JB merely flinched a bit at the noise but continued to pant happily at her, giant liquid eyes undimmed by death or even pain. She handed the gun back to James. “Is there anything else?” she asked coolly of Arthur.

Before he answered, there was a second shot from somewhere else in the building. “It would seem you both passed. Lancelot, prepare your candidate for the trial mission,” Arthur ordered. His voice had a similar ‘speaking through broken glass’ quality as he spoke as his grandson had done when forced to apologize.

Eggsy raised her eyebrow at him. “And when Roxy and I both do well on the trial mission?” she questioned. She kept her tone low and quiet and even, giving no hint of the contempt she felt for him.

“Then one of you will take the name Tristan and one of you will be awarded a new name. Kingsman does not waste talent,” James answered first, forcing Arthur to nod in reluctant agreement.

“Excellent. Lancelot,” she said, using his codename formally for the first time, standing almost at attention expectantly, clearly waiting for instructions.

“If you’ll excuse us, Arthur,” James said smoothly. He put a hand in the middle of her back to guide her out, pausing long enough for her to stoop and pick JB up. If she held the little pug a bit tighter than normal, JB didn’t complain and James didn’t comment.

Once the door was shut and they were a few feet away from it, she turned to James and said, low and urgent, “We gotta be somewhere? I really need to see Harry. _Please_ , James.”

He studied her for just a second before nodding. “You’ll need to report to HQ in two days. Until then, you are free to do as you please. I’ll call Harry and let him know you’re on your way,” he said crisply, abruptly turning to guide her down to the shop. He put her and JB into the back of the waiting cab, gave Harry’s address to the driver, then slammed the door shut. His phone was already out as the cab pulled out into traffic.

JB was beginning to finally squirm in discomfort at being hugged for so long when the car pulled up outside of Harry’s. Harry was waiting for them outside and was quick to open her door. He casually thanked her driver even as he all but picked her up to get her into the house. When he’d shut and locked the door behind them, she carefully set JB safely on the floor, then launched herself at Harry. Harry seemed frozen for a few moments as she clung to him, shaking in delayed reaction, but eventually managed to get his arms around her. “Oh my dear,” he sighed, holding her tight. “I am so sorry. You never should have been made to watch that. It was an unpardonable cruelty on Chester’s part.”

“Shut up,” she ordered, voice tellingly watery. “Just – just shut up, yeah? You never said – you didn’t tell me,” she hiccupped and shoved her face tighter into his neck to stifle the sobs that were working so hard to get out.

“But I did, my dear,” he protested. “I told you about the grenade, that I missed it. How your father saved us. I know it must have been a shock to see it, but –“

“No.” She shifted, threading her fingers into his hair so she could grip it, hold his head steady so he couldn’t look away. “You never said he pushed you out of the way. That you tried to jump on it first. Don’t – I could have _lost_ you. Before I ever knew you.” She blinked, losing the battle against the tears, finally, letting them spill unchecked down her cheeks. “I had this whole – plan but. Harry. I am so in love with you I can’t hardly stand it. An’ thinkin’ I mighta never got to know you terrifies me, ‘cause ain’t nobody else ever gonna make me feel like you do. An’ I know you might not – you might not want me like that, an’ that’s okay, I get it, but you gotta know how very much I love you, cause you’s the best man I ever known an’ you deserve to know that.”

“Oh.” Lips parted in shock, Harry stared at her for a few moments. Then his whole face softened and lit up, slow smile spreading over his face. “Oh, darling girl, you must be mad to love an old fool like me.” His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb swiping through the tear tracks. “I am far too selfish and too in love with you to let you go now.” He bent his head to brush his lips gently over hers. She made a noise that, even to her own ears, sounded pained, then used her grip on his hair to hold him in place so she could kiss him proper, lips almost stinging with the force of it. The arm around her waist shifted, his hand tracing along the small of her back, down her over her arse, to grip her thigh. He gave a bit of a tug, urging her leg up. She did him one better as, with a bit of a jump, she got both legs wrapped around his hips, squeezing tight as his tongue demanded and received entrance to her mouth.

Eggsy moaned into the kiss, restlessly grinding her hips against him, thrilling at the hardness that was already beneath her. Harry felt wonderfully thick and long beneath their clothing, and she could feel the wetness gathering at her core in anticipation. She nipped his bottom lip. “Bed, Harry. Take me to bed, I need to feel you,” she not quite begged, trailing her lips along his jaw, then scraped her teeth down his neck until his stiff, white shirt got in the way. Impatient, she loosened her hold on his hair to start working his tie loose.

He shuddered against her, hips grinding a bit before he nodded. With both hands cupping her rear, his long legs took the stairs two at a time, though he did stumble briefly when she got enough shirt open to have free access to his adam’s apple. He gave a light swat to her bum. “Wicked girl, you’ll get us killed before I get to have you.”

“Then hurry up!”

He obeyed, half sprinting the rest of the way up the stairs and down the hall. He bypassed her bedroom, slamming open the door to his room and dumping her on the bed. He followed her down immediately, slotting himself between her splayed thighs, hips flexing just right against her as his mouth traced down her neck. She moaned, curling a leg around his for leverage to push up. “Fuck, Harry, god that feels good.” She twisted under his lips, pulling uselessly at his clothes. “Off, Harry, get this – shit. Get this off, please,” she begged.

“We are rather overdressed,” he agreed, breath feathering over the damp skin of her neck. He pushed himself upright to kneel between her legs. His fingers made short work of his shirt buttons and shrugged both shirt and jacket off, tossing both off the bed. Eggsy sat up as though pulled by a magnet, hands reaching to smooth over his lightly haired chest, finally getting to feel the sleek muscle that his well tailored suits hinted at but never fully revealed. Harry sighed and kissed her again, like he just couldn’t help it. She opened to him immediately, sucking his tongue into her mouth. She felt him starting to undo the buttons of the boiler suit, which was a fantastic idea, really, so she left off touching his chest and stomach to help. Together they managed to fumble the suit and the shirt beneath it open and shove both off her arms. He slid his hands around her chest, just skimming the underside of her bra, until he found the clasp in back. “May i?” he asked, lips moving against hers.

“Fuck yeah, wanna feel you, Harry.” Her bra came loose and she impatiently fumbled it down her arms and tossed it, then immediately pressed her breasts against him with a moan.

“Darling, you feel so good,” he whispered. He kissed her again, bearing down until she was pressed against the bed, then kissed down her neck again, along her collarbone, then down to the valley between her tits. She keened, back arching, when he pulled one tightly pebbled nipple into his mouth, deft fingers working the other. Her legs shifted restlessly. To her displeasure, his head jerked up and he actually chuckled. “Love, your boots….”

“Fuck, sorry. Here, lemme just.” He sat up to give her room. Fingers clumsy, she fumbled the laces open and yanked her boots off, then started to twist to get the suit down and off her legs. While she worked on her clothes, he pulled open his belt and trousers, and shoved the rest of his kit down and off, highly polished shoes thumping to the floor in a heap. His cock sprang free, hard and shiny with moisture at the tip. She licked her lips and renewed her struggle with the laces. Her boots made somewhat louder thuds as they followed. He grabbed the hems of her suit legs and pulled, tumbling her back onto her elbows as the ugly tartan suit was finally fully removed. The Kingsman issued plain cotton panties fell out to land on his shoulder and she couldn’t stifle a giggle at the sight. He chuckled, low and throaty, and brushed them off.

His laughter made his cock bounce against his belly, and her own giggles dried up. She sat back up on her knees, hands tracing the path her eyes made down his chest and over his belly, until she curled her fingers around the hot, throbbing length of him. She swiped her thumb over the tip, collecting the moisture there. She met his eyes as she brought her thumb to her mouth to taste the bitter fluid. He groaned and pushed her thumb out of the way to replace it with his tongue. “Beautiful, wicked, brilliant girl,” he breathed. His hands closed on her rear, jerking her tight against him. “I’ve dreamed of you here, in my bed, under my hands, my mouth.”

Her head fell back, giving him full access to her throat. “Me too. I’ve wanted you so long. Can’t tell you how often, oh right there!” She shuddered, clutching at his shoulders when he found a particularly sensitive spot. “Wanted you so much, Harry. My Harry, yeah. Thought about you, ‘bout you comin’ into my room. I’d slide my fingers between my legs, listenin’ to you getting’ ready for bed. Could you hear me?”

“Sometimes,” he murmured, nibbling her collarbone. “I could hear you breathing, gasping. Hoped you were thinking of me.”

“I was,” she promised. “Touch me, please,” she begged, pushing one of his hands between her legs. His fingers stroked over her slick folds, teasing for a few moments. She shuddered, nails scoring lines across his back when they parted her and stroked gently over her clit then down. He pushed into her, worked inside her clutching pussy, ball of his hand braced against her clit. She bit her way along his jaw until she found his mouth again, hips working as his fingers fucked her, tension coiling tighter in her belly.

“That’s it,” he crooned into her mouth. “That’s my girl, yeah, so beautiful, Eggsy. Look at you, riding my hand, so tight and wet. Can’t wait to get my mouth on you, eat that sweet little pussy until you can’t remember anything but the feel of my mouth, my tongue. Good girl, darling, my darling, my love, come for me, let me see you.” His mouth found that spot on her neck again and he bit down, just the right amount of pressure, and sent her over the edge. She keened into his neck, body ridged against his. He kept his fingers moving, drawing out her orgasm until she hit the edge of too much and had to push his hand away. She went lax in his hold and let him guide her back down, clumsily unfolding her legs until she could sling them around his hips. She opened her eyes as her heart began to slow a bit only to see him bring his fingers to his mouth to suck her juices off them. Want began to coil again in her groin.

“Oh, oh you tease,” she breathed. “What are you – Harry, please.”

He pulled his fingers out of his mouth with an obscene slurp and bent to kiss her again. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue. “Tease, am I? Eggsy, you should know a gentleman always fulfils his promises,” he growled, nipping at her lip.

“Fulfil _me_ ,” she demanded, tugging at his hair, his hip, whatever she could get her greedy hands on.

“Oh, I shall, darling.” He stretched out an arm for his bedside table, fumbling in the drawer until he pulled out a box – still wrapped in cellophane – of condoms.

She caught at his hand and met his eyes. “Had an IUD for a couple’a years now. I know you’s clean, an’ you seen my med records, yeah?”

“Are you sure? I would never ask –“

“I know, ‘s why I’m sayin’. Skip it, if you’s want. I wanna feel you drippin’ out of me later, makin’ my thighs sticky.”

“Filthy, perfect, lovely girl.” Harry dropped the box over the edge of the bed. He bent to kiss her again, tongue twining with hers. She slid her hands down his back until she could grip the tight swell of his arse, then pulled him tight against her, his cock sliding between the folds of her pussy, rubbing against her clit until she thought her heart might give out from the sheer need to be filled.

“Please,” she begged. “Please, fuck me, Harry, have me, I need you.” He swore, shifted his hips, and drove into her as deeply as he could get in one smooth, powerful thrust. “Yes! God yes, like that, that’s perfect. Harry, my Harry, fuck me!” She tilted her hips as he started a hard, steady rhythm, angled perfectly to rub her g-spot. She panted against him, open mouthed and tasting the salt of his sweat, pressing her breasts against his chest to feel his hair rubbing her nipples, reeling with the combined, dizzying sensations. His mouth was curled into a snarl of pleasure, hair a loose mass of waves from her fingers gripping and running through it. She hitched her legs higher, shuddering and moaning when he hooked one of her knees over his arm, bending it nearly to her chest. It spread her a little wider, let her feel the slap of his balls against her just a little bit harder. “Faster. Oh, fuck, Harry, please faster!” He obliged, mouth ravageng her neck as his hips built up speed until she convulsed around him, keening her second orgasm into his ear.

Harry was panting and swearing in her ear as he fucked her through it. “So tight, darling, fuck you feel so good, perfect, that’s it, come for me, let me feel you. Love you, darling, my Eggsy. Fuck.” She went briefly lax as her orgasm finally waned. She opened her eyes and was caught immediately in his burning gaze. There was almost no iris left, pupils blown wide. “I love you, Harry, so much. You feel so good in me, filling me up, stretching me so wide,” she crooned. “Wanted you so long, never gonna give you up now. Want you to come in me, yeah, make me sloppy, wanna feel you drippin’ out of me all day. Gonna suck you later, get my mouth on your cock, wanna learn how to take it deep, swallow you down til you’re all I can taste. Thought about it, ‘bout sliding under the dining table, openin’ those perfectly pressed trousers, making you all messy.” The stream of filth in his ear seemed to really do it for him, his pace almost frantic with every dirty fantasy whispered in his ear, until he stuttered against her, pressed as deep inside as he could get, hips grinding hitching little circles as he loosed a deep, guttural moan in her ear while his cock spilled inside her.

He finally went boneless against her, pressing her into the bed. His arms wrapped tightly around her, like he never planned to let her go. She was perfectly fine with that and ran her hands languidly up and down his back, from his arse to the nape of his neck, pressing sucking little kisses into his shoulder and throat as the mood took her. Eventually his cock softened enough to slip out of her dripping pussy, but he stayed pressed against her, wet and soft and intimate. In time, he propped himself up on his elbows, giving her a bit more room to breathe, though she hadn’t minded the constriction of her lungs with the weight of him holding her down. He kissed her, slow and deep and more tenderly than she’d ever been kissed in her life. “My darling girl,” he sighed against her lips. “I love you so very much. You have utterly ruined me for anyone else, I hope you know that.”

“Good. ‘Cause there ain’t no one else could ever make me feel like you do, an’ I ain’t ever letting you go.” She smiled a bit and leaned up to trace a mark on his neck with her tongue. “Look at that, I even got my mark on you. Finally.”

Harry laughed and traced over that spot on her neck that had driven her so wild with his finger. It made her shiver even with her lust sated for the moment. “I seem to have done so as well.”

She snorted at him. “Come off it, love. You been puttin’ your mark on me for ages now. Pickin’ my shampoo. The soap I use so I smell like you. Every time you put your jacket round me. The necklace,” she added pointedly. “Symbolizes rebirth, yeah, but love too. The gem of Venus, Roman goddess of love.”

Harry looked ever so slightly sheepish. “Can you blame me for being hopeful?”

“’Course not. Why do you think I wore it every day I had the chance? I’d wear it every day, ‘cept I was afraid I’d lose it during training. Charlie for sure woulda tried to get it offa me when we had to spar.”

“I’d buy you another. A thousand more,” Harry promised. He kissed her neck. “I am a possessive bastard, darling. I shall do my best not to be a dick about it, but I am all too aware of my failings. You must promise to tell me if I am being a beast.”

“When have I not put my foot down when you’s being too much?”

“True, and it only made me love you more. You’re so strong, darling, so very fierce. You are the only person who has ever made me feel as cared _for_ as caring.”

“Sarah calls it fussing, an’ I do like to fuss over you,” she admitted. “As much as I like you fussing on me.”

“Excellent. Then I do hope you’ll allow me to fuss a bit more today. I believe we could both use a shower.” He sat up onto his knees with visible reluctance, eyes growing heated when he took in the sight of her lying there, love bites decorating her neck and collarbone, legs sprawled lewdly, his semen slowly seeping out of her.

She returned his appraisal, noting the marks she’d left on him, his disheveled hair, their combined fluids making his pubic hair shiny and matted. His cock was perking up again, growing visibly plump, and she licked her lips. “A shower sounds like a very good idea,” she agreed.

The shower proved to be rather more of a mixed idea, as she enjoyed him kneeling between her legs, her knees over his shoulder while his mouth worked her to a shrieking orgasm. But neither enjoyed having the hot water run out on them while he took her from behind, nor when her grasping hands accidentally ripped the shower curtain down. Mind, neither event prevented them from finishing.


	12. Chapter 12

Eggsy arrived at the shop unescorted for the first time. The tailor waved her through to the fitting room without a word. She smiled her thanks and went in. A trifle nervously, she pressed her hand to the glass as she’d seen James do, and was pleased when her print activated the lift. The train was waiting below, with Roxy already seated patiently, waiting for its scheduled departure rather than pressing the button that would override the timing and set the train in motion manually. Roxy grinned at her. “I was hoping you’d be here on time! No JB?” she asked dryly.

“Not fuckin’ likely, mate. That was some fucked up shit,” Eggsy replied fervently. “He can stay home with Harry from now on.”

Roxy laughed a little ruefully. “Lady is being pampered to within an inch of her doggy life at the daycare. I don’t care what Thomas says, I’m not bringing her back around.” She kept smiling, though her eyebrows began a slow climb up. “So?!” she eventually burst out.

“So what?”

“I can see the marks, Eggsy! What happened? Who was it? Please tell me it was Harry!”

Eggsy tugged the collar of her coat up a bit higher. “Bloody vampire,” she muttered. “Yeah, course it was Harry. Who else would it be?”

“But what about the plan! You had a plan, Eggsy. Or did Harry make the first move?”

“No, he didn’t. Arthur showed me…he showed me what happened when my dad died. Told you dad died on his first mission with James, Merlin, and Harry, yeah? Grenade?” Roxy nodded. “Harry didn’t mention that he’d tried to jump on it first and dad pushed him out of the way.” She chewed her lip, remembering the frantic fear that had clutched at her. “I coulda never known him. So the plan went down the toilet an’ I improvised.”

“Satisfactory outcome all the same I hope?”

Eggsy slouched in her seat and let loose a slow grin. “Beyond satisfactory,” she said smugly. “Don’t mean we won’t be going shopping, though. All those fiddly bits that make up women’s knickers are confusin’ as hell. He’s gonna see about getting us the dinner reservations instead of James. Probably for the best – James would probably go overboard an’ hire a special band or somethin’.”

Roxy laughed. They both sobered a bit when the train came to a stop and they found Percival and James waiting for them. James’ gaze swept over Eggsy, concern evident. Whatever he found in her expression apparently reassured him as he relaxed and smiled at her. “Right on time, ladies. Let’s get to work.”

They went to Percival’s office, who handed out folders. “This is Brian Briggs. He’s a trader that works both domestically out of New York as well as here in London. I have an informant, generally quite reliable, who has gotten wind that Mr. Briggs has some information that he intends to sell to the highest bidder which will effect stock all over the world – and not in a good way. This information, if used incorrectly, could well create a financial crisis that would effect the majority of first world nations. Such a collapse would lead to anarchy and potentially war in some of the more volatile regions. We need the details that he plans to sell – that is non-negotiable. Ideally, we would also like to gather the names of his potential buyer or buyers. Our informant will be at Mr. Briggs’ charity gala in four days’ time, and plans to have the location of the information for us.” He clicked the remote and brought up images of the previous year’s gala for them. “We will be attending. A great many very rich people will be attending, so we can expect heavy security. Now then, ladies, quiz time: what’s our cover?”

Eggsy and Roxy studied both the folders they held, as well as the images on the wall screen. “Wait staff would let us circulate freely,” Roxy observed.

“Lemme see the remote.” Eggsy took it and zoomed in on several of the photos. “What do you see about the people?” She glanced around. “Look at the men – over half of ‘em have some young thing hangin’ offa them. Even the ones as is married got wives more’n half their ages. Can we get invites to attend as guests?” She looked expectantly at James and Percival. Percival nodded. “Then we go in as guests, an’ we got freedom to circulate, an’ it lets us talk to whoever for as long as we want. Waitstaff, we’d have to be constantly actually _serving_ folks, an’ it’d look weird if we was talking to anyone for too long. Snobs don’t chat up the staff – well,” she amended, thinking of a couple of the more well to do visitors to the pub she’d worked at. “They might, but you’s supposed to bow out quick as you can without makin’ a fuss.”

“But guests wouldn’t be allowed into the staff areas,” Roxy argued. “If we need to go somewhere else, uniforms would be like an all access pass.”

“Good points from both of you,” James approved. “In this case, however, we are going as guests. At such an event, it’s not unusual for tipsy party goers to wander about the place, and our informant will be there as a guest himself. We aren’t planning much beyond making contact, as we do not know if the sale has been scheduled, nor where it might take place. It’s unlikely that Briggs will have the information on him at the gala. If he does not, then we will need to break in and obtain it from wherever he is hiding it.”

“So what happens when we get it?” Eggsy wondered. She frowned. “Arrange a convenient car accident or somethin’?”

“Goodness no, not if we can avoid it. For preference, we do like to hand over evidence to our more well-known counterparts,” Percival said. “We would give the evidence to the American Feds and allow them to arrest him on whatever charges the nature of the information warrants. Killing him isn’t out of the question, of course, should there be extenuating circumstances discovered, but incarceration is the preferred outcome.”

Eggsy nodded. “We got our covers already, then?”

“We do.” Percival handed her and Roxy each another folder. “Kingsman has never had female agents before, so we are going to be taking advantage of you now. I’m afraid they aren’t terribly dignified, however.”

Roxy flipped hers open, scanned it briefly, then glared at her brother. Eggsy scanned hers as well and nodded. “Makes sense. Allows whole other avenues of conversation if we’s free agents.”

“Free? High priced escorts are hardly free!” Roxy protested. “Why not wives? That’s at least a little more dignified.”

“You ever seen a kept girl, Rox? I’d rather be an escort – let’s you negotiate even when you’s already with someone an’ it won’t look too suspicious, long as we don’t ditch our dates that night. Young wife like that, her husband is gonna expect her to be fawning all over ‘im all night.”

“You’re very well informed on the nature of such relationships, Eggsy,” James observed.

Eggsy shrugged. “Bound to work the same no matter your tax bracket. The kept girls was always kept on a tight fuckin’ leash. Hookers had more freedom, long as they didn’t piss off whoever was payin’ for their time right then.”

“Pigs,” Roxy muttered.

“Men often are,” James agreed. He clapped his hands. “Right then! I believe we’re all fairly well briefed. Our gear is already on the jet, so no time like the present. You can study the mark further on the flight.”

On the jet, which was spacious and luxurious, as Eggsy had expected, James sat and talked things over with them while Percival flew them to New York. They had gone through what they knew of Briggs and his history, as well as the schematics for every building he had free access to, including his rather lavish house in upstate New York. They knew the layout of the hotel where the gala was taking place, every exit and potential hiding spot. When they were about an hour from landing, James switched off the computer and beamed at them. “Now then, I do believe you should get changed.” He grinned. “I love this part! Leodegrance – Andrew, from the shop – worked very hard on these. I do believe he enjoyed the challenge, actually.” He went into the back and brought out two garment bags. He handed one to each of them. “You’ll find some custom shoes in the backroom as well in each of your sizes.”

Eggsy followed Roxy to the back of the plane, finding both a small bathroom and a bedroom. They unzipped their bags to withdraw the suits within. Eggsy’s was jet black while Roxy’s was in a dark gray. They stripped and changed with ease, used to changing with each other, watching to make sure neither Charlie nor any of the others were trying for a peek. Eggsy buttoned the emerald green silk blouse, then slid the jacket on over it. Buttoned, it created a V that stopped at the top of her sternum, allowed a hint of the green to show for a splash of color. It contoured to her waist, with the sleeves hitting at the edge of her hands. She flexed her arms and legs, testing the range of motion, and found her ability to move pleasantly unhindered. Eggsy slipped on the black oxfords in her size, admiring the shine of them. Then, remembering a neat little trick James had shown her, clicked the heels together. Just like the standard Kingsman shoes, a blade slipped out of the toe of the right shoe. She and Roxy traded excited grins, then she carefully pushed the blade back again by pressing it against the wall.

Her somewhat sloppy ponytail didn’t really go with the look, so she took a couple minutes to redo it in a neat French braid. They walked back out to the main cabin to find Percival waiting with James. Both men applauded as they paused, posing just a bit and preening. Percival walked over to them and handed each of them a pair of glasses. Eggsy slipped hers on, eyes tracking the information that showed in a faint green across the lenses. “That is sick,” she approved. Even better, neither of their glasses were the large, square frames the men wore, which would have stood out terribly on their faces.

“Why thank you, Eggsy,” Merlin said in her ear, making her start just a bit. “I’ll inform the tech department of your approval. Now then, here is your introduction to the Kingsman glasses. Pay attention now.” Eggsy listened carefully as Merlin gave them the rundown of the features they would enjoy, including the infrared overlay that would allow them to see in the dark, along with the standard recording and audio functions. Their handlers could basically direct them in almost any scenario, even if the audio function became damaged, as they could make text or pictures scroll across the lenses.

“Our other standard equipment had to be altered somewhat to not stand out on ladies. As you don’t have cufflinks, you’ll find that your suit buttons conceal smoke grenades. As it’s rather unusual, though of course not unheard of, for women to wear signet rings, you each have a small, filigree band.” James dug them out of his pocket and handed them each one. “Your jackets have been designed a little bit longer than standard to conceal holsters, as the cut does not allow for shoulder holsters. The suits themselves are, of course, bulletproof.” Merlin paused briefly. “Galahad would like me to remind you that bulletproof does not mean impact proof, so you are advised _not_ to test that feature unless you wish to be sporting painful bruising.” Eggsy grinned, having been slightly tempted to try it out. “Percival, will you show our ladies their evening wear for the night of the gala?”

“Of course, Merlin.” Percival went into the back of the plane and returned a few moments later with another pair of garment bags. He unzipped them both to reveal a pair of stunning gowns, one in a sapphire blue, the other – almost predictably – in an emerald green. Eggsy could tell that both would be form fitting, emphasizing bust and trim waists. The skirts were almost gauzy and would float around their legs. Their chests would be covered, though their arms would be bare.

“As you can see, they offer slightly less protection than a man’s tuxedo would, though we did manage to keep your vital organs covered. If you feel in the waistline seam, you’ll each find a flexible length of wire that will work admirably as a garrote. In the event that you are unable to wear your glasses for some reason, the jewelry that accompanies your evening wear contains additional voice and audio – you’ll be able to hear your handler as well as speak to them, though you won’t have the rest of the advantages of the glasses. The colored gemstones on the dresses are both trackers and listening devices – plant one on someone and we’ll be able to hear everything they say as well as pinpoint them to within a meter. You each have a large, decorative bracelet. This offers the same features as our watches, though we do have ladies sized versions of those for you as well, though they are not suited for evening wear.

“The accessory that our tech people have been most excited for, however, would be your hair decoration things.” Percival opened a small case, filled with what looked like their jewelry for the upcoming gala. He withdrew a pair of fancy hair combs and a set of decorative sticks. “Within the tines of the combs you’ll find one that is a hollow tube. This tube contains poison. One of the sticks also contains poison, the other you’ll notice is covered by a sheath. Remove the sheath and you have a very sharp stiletto. Please note, this poison must be ingested, as we didn’t want to risk one of the tubes cracking and killing you. We’re working on a few more varieties but these should serve you admirably for your present mission.”

Eggsy couldn’t resist lifting the decorative sticks out. One was notably heavier than the other and proved to be the one with a thin, rubberized sheath on it. When she slipped it off, the blade beneath was thin, strong, and sharpened on one edge to allow for either slicing or stabbing. She hefted it, noting the balanced weight that would allow for a decent throw. The decorative bit that would show was a stylized flame that would sit without much discomfort in the palm of the hand. She grinned at Roxy, damn near cooing at the lovely toys, as was her friend.

A while later Percival landed the plane. They gathered their bags and went confidently through customs, then caught a rather dirty cab through the city to their hotel. How Merlin had arranged for the to have a two bedroom suite on rather short notice was a miracle that Eggsy wouldn’t question.

After setting up the room for their discrete use as a temporary HQ – the laptops were not out of place, and they kept the actual firearms on their person at all times so as not to alarm any nosy staff – they spent the next few days doing a visual recon of the likely locations. Kingsman had arranged for them to have a pair of vehicles in the hotel parking garage, which made travel easier. Briggs had an apartment in the city, in addition to his upstate home, as well as a large office at a brokerage. They walked the hotel where both they and Briggs were staying to account for any service closures or remodeling that might not be on schematics.

Roxy, very much dressed down to avoid future recognition, and Percival lingered in the hotel bar the night before the gala when Briggs checked in. His typical habit when staying in previous years had him spending a good portion of the evening ‘loosening up’ in the bar. His wife tended to arrive the day of, rather than the night before. When they had a visual on him, it was then on Eggsy and James to break into his room to search in on the off chance they would find something that would let the avoid the whole gala.

As busy as the hotel was, she and James deemed it safer to go in through his window. The room was on the tenth floor. They disabled the alarm on the fire exit and slipped out onto the fire escape. The ledge that ran around the building was just wide enough to edge along, and with the building right there to lean against, was easier to navigate than a balance beam. Eggsy confidently worked her way along the ledge with James right behind her, counting windows until she found the right one. While the lower floors boasted alarmed windows, so high up, the hotel hadn’t bothered. She jimmied the window lock, then looked back at James for permission. He nodded, and she slid the window open, slipping gratefully into the warm room.

Then her heart started pounding with a mix of fear and excitement. Up until then, it had felt like another training exercise – now it felt real. When James slipped in beside her, they got to work searching the room. As expected, however, they found nothing outside of clothing and toiletries – not even a laptop. If Briggs had the information with him, he was keeping it on his person.

After making certain they had left nothing out of place, they retraced their path back to the fire escape and into the building. Eggsy re-enabled the fire alarm, holding her breath a bit in the sudden worry that she’d bump the wrong wire and set the damn thing off, then they stripped off the gloves they’d worn and strolled through the hallway to the elevator.

Roxy was in the suite already, with Percival planning to join them in a bit to avoid suspicion. “That man seriously reminds me of Charlie,” was the first thing she said. “He was eyeing every woman in there that was wearing something even slightly revealing, he was rude to the bartender, and didn’t even tip!”

“Most people don’t,” Eggsy pointed out.

“They do in the States,” James reminded her. “Waitstaff and bartenders count on tips as part of their wages. It’s expected, unless the service was truly abominable. It won’t be quite the same for tomorrow’s function, unless we make use of the bars that will be set up for mixed drinks.”

Eggsy snapped her fingers and nodded at him. “Yanks are weird like that. So he’s an arrogant prick, used to gettin’ what he wants. No surprise there. Still, helps to know how to play it if we need t’ interact with him directly. That type’d like knowing a high end escort would be willing to do a freebie, just ‘cause it’s him.”

James frowned at her, looking uncomfortable. “You would be willing to sleep with him, if needed?”

“Oh fuck no! That’s a last resort if we need ‘im to get in somewhere.” She shuddered, the idea of sleeping with _anyone_ not Harry was already repulsive – an older, American version of Charlie was repulsive under any circumstances. “Get ‘im worked up, get in, then knock his arse out. Like I said, last resort.”

Relieved, James nodded. “Fortunately for the pair of you, we _shouldn’t_ need anything so drastic.”

Percival returned and shared Roxy’s opinion of Briggs. They went over the plan one more time (and Eggsy was getting just a tad tired of hearing the same thing repeated, but considering James’ experience with her dad and their trial mission, and the fact that Percival was Roxy’s older brother, she bit her tongue and let them do what they needed) and turned in for the night. Eggsy laid in bed while Roxy took her turn in the bathroom, and used her shiny new Kingsman issued phone to call Harry.

“Eggsy, is everything alright?” Harry answered immediately.

“Just fine,” she said, a little amused. “We took a jaunt around the hotel today.”

“I saw,” Harry admitted. “Merlin is indulging me, allowing me to see the occasional bit of mission footage. I’m surprised James wore his glasses, but I did enjoy watching you stroll around without the slightest wobble.”

She chuckled, slipping a hand behind her head while they talked. “It was fun. Roxy weren’t impressed with our host. Reminded her of an older version of Charlie.”

“Useful assessment.”

“That’s what I said. We need to, one of us can probably hook him. Lancelot got a bit worried when I mentioned that. Bit mother henning, like.”

“As well he should be. That’s his job, after all. I’m glad to hear he’s taking this seriously. But you feel good about how things are going? You have instincts, Eggsy. They can tell you a lot.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling good so far. I do miss you, though.”

“As I miss you. Return to me triumphant and in one piece, darling, or I shall be very cross with you indeed.”

“I intend to,” she promised. Roxy came out of the bathroom, raising an eyebrow to see Eggsy on the phone. “I should go, love. Roxy’s a single gal an’ don’t wanna hear our gooey talk.”

Harry laughed warmly in her ear. “So kind of you to consider our less fortunate friends. Be safe.”

“Swear down.” She dropped the mobile and grinned at Roxy. “What?”

“You two are disgustingly adorable.”

“What can I say? We’s just got together, it’s bound to be a bit soppy til the newness wears off.”

Amused, Roxy climbed into the bed beside her. “Tell me that again in a couple years when you’re still acting just the exact same.”

~

Eggsy dressed for the gala like she was donning armor. Which, in a way, she sort of was. She twisted and turned in the full length mirror on the back of the closet door, admiring the fall of green around her legs. Beside her, Roxy was utterly stunning in her dress, though she did less preening, having worn similar dresses in the past. Eggsy’s only other formal dress hadn’t been quite this fancy, so the novelty wasn’t likely to wear off anytime soon. With her hair and makeup done up (with a bit of help from Roxy – Eggsy had some serious youtube time in her future to practice, maybe some time with Sarah) and the dress and accessories on, she looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of a magazine. Even the shoes worked, lovely gold sandals with a wide, low heel that she felt she could run and fight in, if needed. The stupidly small clutches hanging from their wrists did at least allow for a bit of extra storage, where they each had a grenade, one of the poison pens, and a small but powerful torch. She and Roxy looked each other over critically, making sure nothing was out of place and all their weapons were accessible, then they stepped out into the main room of the suite.

James and Percival were ready in their tuxes, looking very dashing. Eggsy altered her gate as she strolled up to James and wrapped her arms around one of his, as many of the young women in the photos from the previous gala had done to their ‘dates’. She gazed up at James through her lashes, a little amused at the discomfort on his face. He caught the edge of her humor and flashed a grin, relaxing and winding an arm around her waist to pull her closer. His hand landed very low on her hip, a subtle sign of an intimacy that was entirely different between them than what would be perceived. He had, after all, touched her in far more intimate places while teaching her to fight – no point being weird about things now.

When she looked over at the other two, she found that they didn’t share her and James’ ease. Roxy was stiff as a board in her brother’s hold, and Percival wasn’t much better. “Roxy?”

“This is too weird,” she moaned. “He’s my brother!”

Percival grimaced his agreement. “I changed her diapers. I’m not at all certain I can kiss her and make it believable.”

Eggsy rolled her eyes. “Switch!” She pulled away from James and shoved Roxy into his arms. Percival’s hand landed low on her hip, where James’ had been, and she could feel him relax when her breasts pressed against his chest rather than holding himself stiffly away. She fluttered her eyelashes up at him. She looked over at James and Roxy, pleased to see the pair of them looking relaxed and believably intimate.

Percival gave James a pinched look. “Just remember, she’s my sister,” he warned.

“I’m taken, as you well know,” James said a little heatedly.

“As is Eggsy,” Harry warned them all in their ears. All of them except James, of course, who Eggsy realized wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“Lancelot, where are your glasses?” she asked sweetly.

“He rarely wears them,” Merlin informed her as James waved his free hand airily and said something about them ruining the image.

Eggsy straightened away from Percival, hands on her hips. “James Atherton, you go put those glasses on right now! Are you out of your mind? You know damned well what an advantage they provide, an’ I ain’t havin’ you go gallivanting around without every weapon and defense that we have available to us! You got people countin’ on you these days, an’ your life ain’t yours alone no more! That’s just selfish, bruv.”

“I wear them sometimes,” he protested. “I wore them yesterday when we broke into his hotel room, didn’t I?”

“You should be wearing them _all the time_ on missions. How else is your handler supposed to help you like they’s supposed to?” She narrowed her eyes dangerously. “If you’s get yourself killed ‘cause you’s too vain to wear somethin’ that coulda helped you, I’ll bring your sorry arse **back** just so’s I can kick it! What would it do to mum!”

Cowed, James slunk off to the men’s bedroom to retrieve his glasses. Next to her, Percival let out an almost painful sound snort. When she looked back at him, it was obvious that he was fighting mightily to control laughter. He was able to manfully suck it down and force his face to blandness by the time James returned, this time with glasses. He smiled a hopeful little smile at Eggsy. She shook her finger at him. “Best make this your new habit, bruv, ‘cause if I find that you’s ain’t wearin’ ‘em even when I ain’t around, I’m gonna put your arse in a full body cast, you get me?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Well, that may be a genuine Christmas miracle,” Merlin drawled. “Now, you’d best get going. The sooner you can get the information from Percival’s contact, the better, so we know what we’re dealing with.”

They went to the gala separately, as they didn’t want anyone to associate the four of them together. Eggsy split her attention between watching the crowd and simpering at Percival – Michael Aimes, according to his invitation. She spotted a number of other older man/young woman couples around and tweaked her performance to better blend with their behavior. Percival’s lips brushed her ear when he noticed what she was doing. “Nicely done. Do you remember what my contact looks like?”

Eggsy let out a throaty chuckle, squeezing his arm. “Of course, baby,” she said, adopting an accent much closer to Percival’s than her own. He squeezed her hip approvingly and they continued to circulate, occasionally stopping to make small talk with other guests. An hour into the gala, Briggs got on a microphone to deliver some inane and blatantly false speech (well, blatantly false to her, anyway, considering) about donating to the less fortunate, helping one’s fellow man, have fun and get out the checkbook and oh yeah, dancing.

Space was cleared for a dance floor and couples took it as the musicians switched from quiet background music to dance music. Percival swept her into a waltz that let them twirl around and get good scans of the crowd. “Ten o’clock, by the bar,” she breathed when she glimpsed someone who _might_ be the contact.

Percival’s eyes flickered to where she’d indicated, giving her an extra twirl to give himself a couple seconds to study the man. His lips curled slightly.

“On it,” James said in their ear. The next glimpse Eggsy got of the man, James and Roxy were standing next to him. She listened as James gave the code phrase, then as the three of them meandered into a corner with bland small talk about the party.

The audio picked up their conversation clearly once they were far enough from prying ears to talk a little more freely.

“He’s selling a copy tonight,” the man said bluntly. “I’m not sure who the buyer is, but I know he’s got the information on him on an encrypted thumb drive. He keeps the main copy on his private server at his home.”

“Do you have an idea of what time the sale will take place?” James asked.

“No. I know the sale price was four million, and he’ll hand the thumb drive over when the deposit is made in his account. There’s also talk that he’ll be selling another copy in two days.” The contact sounded stressed, even strung out. “We’re looking at the financial collapse of entire countries, here! There will be food shortages, suicides, maybe even war!”

“We are well aware. We plan to make certain it doesn’t happen. Can you tell us anything else?”

“Only that there’s been rumors that he’s been into more than just insider trading – a lot more, and worse besides. I have to go. I don’t want him seeing me talking to anyone. He’ll do more than just kill me, and I have a family to think of.”

“Merlin,” Percival murmured, hiding the movement of his lips in Eggy’s hair as though he were giving her a nuzzle. “Do we have eyes on Briggs’ accounts?”

“And his wife’s,” Merlin confirmed. “No transfers yet, but it looks like he’s been buying stock in a lot of natural resources lately. Coal, oil, natural gas, along with most of the largest commercial grain farms in the country.”

“Create the crisis that will increase the demand, while holding controlling interest in the essentials. He can charge whatever he wants,” Roxy breathed.

“Lancelot, I want you and Roxy on Briggs,” Percival ordered. “Stop that sale however you need to. Eggsy and I will head to his house to retrieve everything from his server.”

“On it,” James agreed.

Percival pretended to be a bit more amorous than previous. Their exit garnered one or two titters from the couple of people that noticed the leaving so early, but nothing more. When the car was brought around, Percival drove like a demon to get out of the city traffic, then made a beeline for Briggs’ upstate home. Eggsy reviewed the schematics of the house on her glasses, eyes flickering as she studied each floorplan. “You sure this is all that’s available? I’d think there would be a more secure room for his server, if he’s storing that kind of information.”

“If he’s made modifications to the house, he’s done so without filing the blueprints or for permits. You’ll need to wing it.”

“While dodging his private security, what fun,” Percival said dryly.

They parked a small distance from Briggs’ gated off property. The location offered Briggs’ a certain amount of security, being secluded by distance and plenty of trees, both of which would offer her and Percival the advantage of not being interrupted by the authorities. Their hasty departure worked a bit against them, or at least Eggsy, as she was hardly dressed for a bit of light B and E. She favored the snow outside with a sour look, which she turned on her feet. While the lovely shoes offered traction that commercially purchased dress shoes didn’t, that did nothing to keep her poor toes warm. Percival, on the other hand, with his shiny oxfords, didn’t even seem to notice the snow, nor the cold that brought goosebumps to Eggsy’s exposed skin. Still, catch her complaining and sounding like a damsel on the official recording!

She strapped a gun with spare magazine to her thigh and grabbed an umbrella out of the car. Ideally, they would be able to break in without alerting the security team that patrolled the property, but she didn’t count on that.

They were able to scale the fence that surrounded the property easily and wove their way through the trees until the house and main lawn was in view. Four groups of two, complete with dogs, patrolled the grounds in overlapping arcs. The pattern would leave two corners of the yard open when each pair of teams crossed each other, though their pattern was fast enough that the window was very short. There was a guard at each of the house’s four entrances, which left eight men to walk the halls of the place. The team of twenty switched out every twelve hours, at ten and ten. Since it was barely midnight, the guards would all still be pretty fresh, but they wouldn’t have to worry about a new security team arriving early for the changeover.

“I have the background on the security company Briggs’ contracted with. They’re known to play bodyguards cum private army for arms, drug, and human slave traders,” Merlin informed them. “These men will not look to take prisoners. I can jam their communications when you move to keep them from calling backup. Lancelot and Roxy have eyes on Briggs and his buyer – an arms dealer out of China. Now’s the time, Percival, Eggsy.”

“Got it.” Percival gave her a questioning look and she nodded briskly. She’d charge the lawn even with two dozen teams if it meant a chance for her feet to warm up on the other side. At the next overlap of the teams, they dashed across the lawn low to the ground, trying to keep out of sight of any watchers in the house. The fancy stone façade provided decent hand and toe holds which let them scale up to the second floor quickly. Under Percival’s watchful gaze – this was not the time to let her fail as a training moment – she bypassed the alarm on the window and eased it open. Infrared showed the room inside was empty of any people. Inside, she took a second to shake out her hands and feet, which had begun to grow dangerously numb from the cold.

“I’ll head up to the third floor to search it, you search this floor,” Percival breathed in her ear. “Security is on the ground floor. If we don’t find the server, we’ll go down together. Got it?”

“Got it.” She pulled the small light out of her clutch and covered the end with a layer of her skirt. It gave her just enough green hazed light to see without needing to turn on the room lighting, but kept it dim enough that there should be no betraying flashes through the heavy drapes or underneath closed doors. She started with the room they’d entered, which seemed to be a guest bedroom, but found nothing. Merlin helpfully had a display of the second floor layout and crossed rooms off as she methodically made her way through each one, plush carpet helping to muffle her already quiet footsteps. She was nearly to the last room when Merlin broke in again.

“Percival, Eggsy, we’ve got satellite imagery. Heat signatures of the house indicate a very cool room with something small but hot inside in the basement. I suggest you make your way there, as this is the most likely spot. Lancelot and Roxy have taken care of the buyer and located the encrypted drive. We’re working to decrypt it as we speak.”

“Got it, Merlin. Eggsy, meet me at the stairs,” Percival answered.

She stashed her light and left the room to meet as instructed. Percival hit the bottom of the stairs seconds after she got there and they paused before going down. “We’re going to have to take out the inside guards before we can head to the basement,” he murmured. “Merlin can spoof their radio check-ins with the outside guards, but that won’t do a bit of good if we make too much noise and they investigate. So fast and silent, Eggsy. You have your bracelet and the umbrella, so make full use of them.”

Eggsy took a moment to make sure both were set to stun and nodded her readiness. Percival took the lead on the way down, using his greater bulk to shield her. At they bottom they split up, Percivel left while she went right. There was some quiet chatting going on amongst the guards in the house, which meant they were at least slightly distracted, and let her dart two of them quite easily. She made sure to block one of the doors to the outside with their bodies just to help prevent anyone from coming in, then moved on. Before she could dart her third person, there was a loud crash from further in the house in the direction that Percival had gone. Percival swore briefly in her ear before a couple of gunshots sounded.

The guard in front of her was instantly on the alert and withdrew his weapon. She dashed out the alcove she had been concealed in and darted him before he could finish leaving the room. She caught the gun in her hand as he went down, as it typically took about two seconds before the recipient was fully unconscious – enough time to squeeze off a shot and alert the rest to a second problem area. “Go lethal,” Merlin advised shortly.

Eggsy took the safety off the gun in her hand – no point wasting her own bullets when she had plenty in her hand already. She stalked through the house, a curious focus coming over her. The first one she came across was easy – he was facing her as she walked into the room and instantly began to raise his gun. Hers was already up, and the trigger moved so easily under her finger, followed by a bloom of red in the middle of his forehead. She heard running footsteps and stepped to the side of the doorway to wait, and the second went down just as easily. A third came from behind her, resulting in her having to dive out of the way and take the shot as she rolled across the floor. It was a bit less neat, but still hit his chest, which stunned him long enough for her to take the headshot.

She shot to her feet and kept going, paying more attention to the infrared, which showed three bodies in the next room, one helpfully labeled ‘Percival’. She came around the door to see him struggling with one of the men, both of them gripping the guard’s gun, while the second guard tried to find an opening to shoot, clearly less experienced. Eggsy put him down then kicked Percival’s man in the side of the knee, weakening him enough that Percival was able to take the gun and shoot him with it.

“Alright?” Percival asked.

“As rain, bruv.” She popped open the umbrella and they both crouched behind it as the remaining five house guards rushed towards them from the same doorway. Percival extended his longer reach past her ear to take out the first two unwary men through the doorway. The remaining three hid to the sides and fired slightly blind into the room, guessing with reasonable accuracy where they were but with no way to account for their bulletproof protection. When the suppressing fire died down, one brave soul poked his head around and got it ventilated for his trouble.

“Hate to rain on the festivities, but your eight chillier opponents are entering the house,” Merlin warned. “They’ll be coming in from the west entrance, and they’re bringing the dogs.”

Eggsy faltered slightly – she didn’t want to shoot the dogs!

There was no time to dwell on the dilemma. Percival moved around her and dove through the doorway, turning to fire at the men concealed to either side of it. Eggsy followed him to take position at his side. He took off one of his cufflinks and chucked it through the door. Smoke filled the room. Their infrared let them see as the outdoor guards moved into the room, and she heard the distressed whining of the dogs. Their smaller figures did some odd contortions and she made a quiet questioning sound in her throat.

“The smoke generated is slightly annoying to human air passages,” Merlin informed her. “But it is extremely uncomfortable for dogs, with their more sensitive sense of smell. They should be useless.”

The guards themselves were swearing as they released their distressed animals and continued on without them through the room. She and Percival were able to pick them off fairly easily. As the smoke dissipated, they walked through to clear the bodies, making very sure there were none that would be popping up later to cause trouble. She raised an eyebrow at Percival. “Are we leaving the two I darted?”

“They’ll be out for hours, so yes. No need to execute them.” Percival grimaced down at the body of the man that he’d been struggling with when she’d gotten to him. “Can you imagine being drunk on the job? Really, it’s the height of unprofessional,” he sniffed. He gestured at a formally glass fronted case. “All set to pop round and dart him in the neck and he tripped!”

“Bitch about it later, Percival. Find that server,” Merlin ordered.

With a final look of disapproval at the body, they followed the schematics down to the basement. It was easy as anything to jimmy the lock on the door and find the server set up, more than most people would ever need for a home system. Percival slipped a small thumb drive into one of the slots. “Are you in?”

“I am indeed. Give me five minutes to transfer the information and then get out.”

The wait was a little odd, as there really wasn’t too much to do while Merlin did his thing. When he finally gave them the all clear, Percival snagged the device out of the server and they retraced their steps back up and out of the house. Eggsy paused next to the body of the man she’d taken the gun from, wiped it down thoroughly, then dropped it next to him. She had no clue what, if any, investigation would be done, so she didn’t know if fingerprints would be an issue. But she knew Kingsman put trackers on their firearms, so there was no reason to risk someone else doing the same and following them back. Percival gave her an approving grin, so she felt secure in the choice.

When they made it back to their car, she felt free enough to indulge in a tiny bit of bitching. “These shoes,” she confided to Percival, “suck. Good grip, yeah, but my toes are fuckin’ freezing.”

“Hmm, that is a problem. Perhaps a suggestion to the tech people. Maybe they can come up with some kind of heat retaining sheer stocking for such occasions,” he mused.

“I’d settled for them not being fuckin’ sandals, mate. It’s winter, in New York,” she stressed. “Dunno why folks always bitch about wantin’ a white Christmas in London, this shit sucks.” She reached out and cranked up the heat, shivering in her seat, though she suspected that it was more than just the outside temperature that was doing it. She refused to give into the reaction that wanted to set in as the quiet drive gave her time to think and recall the men that she’d just killed. Part of her was proud of herself – she’d always worried, very faintly in the far back of her mind, that she’d choke when it came time to take a life. She hadn’t, though. She’d planted bullets in several brains, and she hadn’t hesitated. They hadn’t had much choice, but that was little help to the part of her that recoiled from the deadly violence. She could and would do it again when needed, she was sure of that, but it didn’t stop the faint tremors of reaction from going through her frame.

The worst of it was over by the time they reached the hotel. For the sake of anyone who might take notice, she again pressed herself against Percival like a lover as they made their way up to the suite. Roxy and Lancelot were already there of course, each with a hot cup of tea waiting for her and Percival. James pressed the mug into her hands then folded her in a tight hug. She sighed, and just for a minute, let herself lean on him. Percival was doing the same for Roxy, though with the tea in his own hand.

“You did so well,” James murmured. “So very well, Eggsy. For what it’s worth, I am proud of you.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t have much else to say, no sarcastic joke at the ready. Fortunately, nothing more seemed required or expected. She sipped her tea, still leaning against James though he shifted to keep just one arm over her shoulder, and let the heat dispel the last of the inner chill. “So what happens now?” she finally asked.

“The evidence will be delivered to the authorities,” Percival said, still stroking his sister’s hair. “By morning, we expect Briggs to be picked up. Merlin will analyze the information that we obtained tonight in case there should be any further copies that we were unaware of so that steps can be taken to prevent any fallout. We,” he gestured at the four of them, “will spend the night and most of tomorrow here in New York, as we aren’t cleared for departure until 8 PM local. When we return, Arthur will award each of you your knighthoods, then home in time for Christmas. If you have any last minute shopping to do, New York isn’t a terrible place to do it.”

So move on like it was any other day. It seemed a fairly odd concept, but Eggsy just rolled with it. “Then I’m for a shower, if we’s nothin’ else t’do tonight.” She was waved on with James giving her a final parting squeeze.

By the time she was out of the shower, she felt almost normal. She put her damp hair into a braid to keep it from turning into an incredible rat’s nest by morning, then slid into bed to wait for Roxy. Her mobile rang instead. She blinked but answered it, already smiling when she saw Harry’s number on the caller ID. “Hello, love.”

“Eggsy. I have to confess, I was watching your feed tonight,” he told her. “It went a bit pear-shaped on you. Are you alright?”

“Merlin mentioned you were in the room earlier,” she reminded him. “It’s okay – I expected it. And I’m – fine. I was a bit shaky earlier, but. I think I’m okay. Back to business as usual, I guess.”

“It can be jarring,” Harry said cautiously, “to be thrown into sudden violence and then have it just be over with. It’s okay to not be okay with it.”

“For right now, I am. Maybe later I’ll have a bit of a freak out, but I’m good right now. Percival said we’d be home in time for Christmas. Is Arthur…aware of the outcome of the mission?”

“Oh yes. He rather looked like someone had his balls in a vice, but he is aware. You’ll both be knighted when you get back. He hasn’t got a choice, though I won’t lie, I’m sure he wishes that he did.”

“I don’t suppose you have a picture?” she asked wistfully.

Harry paused for several long moments. Then, just when she wondered if she should apologize for that, though she really didn’t want to, he let out a low snort. “I do, actually. I happened to be wearing my glasses. They stream to my private server, which he doesn’t have access to. I’ll show you when you get home.”

Roxy poked her head around the door and Eggsy smiled at her. “Roxy’s ready for a kip, so I’ll let you go, love. I’ll see you in a couple of days, yeah?”

“I look forward to it, darling. The gifts have all arrived and been wrapped, and I picked up the ring for your mother today.”

“You’re a lifesaver, love.”

“I aim to please. Call me if you need me, darling.”

“Always need you, Harry, so that ain’t practical.”

“Sleep well.” Harry disconnected, so she dropped her mobile on the bed next to her.

Roxy slid into her spot, her own damp hair similarly braided. “How was it, really?” she asked bluntly.

“Fast,” Eggsy said honestly. “Once it started, it just seemed to go really fast. I was more nervous searching Briggs’ room the other day than I was while it was all happening. You? Merlin didn’t really say what happened, just that you’d taken care of the buyer and gotten the drive.”

“Yeah. Lancelot wanted the buy to go down for the paper trail, and so that he wouldn’t be tipped off while you were both at Briggs’ house. We bugged Briggs and his wife to keep tabs on them and then tailed the buyer. He had half a dozen body guards and we couldn’t use guns, since we were in the car park. It was – fast,” she finished with a small chuckle. “All that extra practice with you came in handy.”

“I was thinkin’ something similar about the weapons practice with you. You feelin’ weird, ‘bout killin’ for the first time?”

“A little,” Roxy admitted after a few moments. “Lancelot was very distracting, though, which helped. We went back in and danced for a while and he was telling me the most filthy jokes I have ever heard in my life. If he’s half that uninhibited with your mum, she’s a very lucky woman.”

Eggsy shot up and smacked Roxy in the face with a pillow. “Roxanne Morton, that is my **mum** you’re talkin’ about!” She wrinkled her nose as Roxy doubled over laughing. “Oh god, now that’s all I’m gonna think about. Gross.” She flopped back down with a huff.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she hiccupped. “New subject: shopping! You did say Harry was going to be making reservations for the two of you. Why don’t we hit the stores and find you something to wear for dinner? And maybe after?”

“Hmm.” She plumped her pillow and laid down again as she thought. “Yeah, maybe. I ain’t never really been able to wear much in the way o’ really girly stuff. Weren’t a good idea to remind Dean I was a girl. Don’t know a thing about all the weird underwear women wear. Aside from the dinner James took me to, Harry ain’t seen me in nothing – feminine.”

“Except your birthday suit. You don’t get much more feminine than that, but I bet we can find something to make him swallow his tie.”

Eggsy rolled over to stifle her laughter in the pillow.

James attempted to go shopping with them. Eggsy stared him down for several long moments. “Why? We supposed to stay monitored even in our downtime?”

“Well no,” he allowed. “But what if I wish to spoil my protégé a bit?”

“Then let me drive your car!”

“Spoil you up to but not including that. Really, Eggsy.”

“Really, James. One of these days, you’s gonna get home an’ find the car gone, an’ I’ll be sending you selfies from Scotland or somethin’!” She looked him up and down. “Fuddy duddy,” she proclaimed. She looped her arm through Roxie’s. “Got your wallet, Rox?”

“Yes. As well as a scheduled list of stops, which will be crowded this close to the holiday. So we definitely don’t need anyone slowing us down.”

Percival clapped James on the shoulder. “Let the ladies do their shopping on their own. This is one mission we are _not_ qualified to run. Besides, did you not want to pick out something extra for your lady?”

“He’d best,” Eggsy called over her shoulder as they left. “Make up for the rushed holiday!”

Shopping with Roxy was actually fun. Dressed in their Kingsman suits, none of the staff at the high priced shops they went to gave them a second look. They found a beautiful bronze cocktail dress that reminded Eggsy of Harry’s eyes, with shoes to match. That done, Roxy introduced her to the world of high end lingerie. Eggsy nearly choked when she saw the price for a single pair of frilly knickers, but once Roxy talked her into trying on one of the lacy things, she was hooked. She’d never considered herself particularly sexy before – hot, sure. She was fit, and her arse was muscled enough to fill out a pair of jeans nicely. Sexy was a bit different though, and she liked it. With Roxy’s encouragement, she went a little nuts and all but replaced her entire underwear wardrobe. With some poking, she got Roxy to indulge herself a little, too. She’d noticed a look or two between Roxy and Merlin that she’d bet anything could work into something really nice for her friend, though of course if Merlin botched it, she’d flatten any pieces Roxy left.

They ended their spree with a mani/pedi, which was very weird, but felt nice. She relaxed in the massage chair as her feet soaked, and turned her head languidly to look at Roxy. “What’re you an’ Per – Thomas doing for Christmas?”

“Well, mum passed a couple years ago, so it’s just us. When he’s able, we usually have a quiet dinner and exchange gifts. I suppose it will be the same this year.”

“Why don’t you come round ours? Last year was pretty fun, an’ it’ll be better this year with mum well an’ all. Hamish and James are comin’ too.” She paused, thinking. “Mind, I’ll have to find you somethin’ else to open in front of mum, since what I got you’s ain’t really the kinda thing she should see.”

“Harry won’t mind?”

Eggsy opened her mouth to deny it but paused. It was, of course, Harry’s house. Just because they were involved romantically now didn’t give her claim enough to invite anyone into it. She pulled out her mobile and fired off a quick text. “We’ll find out, but I bet he won’t. If he’s not keen, we’ll do something in the afternoon,” she promised. About the time the beautician was putting clear polish on her toenails, Harry shot back an affirmative, and she grinned triumphantly at Roxy. “He ain’t got a problem with it.”

“I’ll ask Thomas, but I can’t think he’d object. Thanks, Eggsy.”

They made it back to the hotel by late afternoon, laden with bags and sipping frothy, whipped cream laden concoctions from a coffee shop. She had to slap James away from her shopping bags when he tried to peek. She packed up all her things and had them ready to go for after dinner, which they took down in the hotel restaurant.

The flight back was uneventful, even boring, as James took her and Roxy through the tedious process of filing mission reports. By the time they arrived, however, the reports were finished so there was nothing Merlin or worse, Arthur, could bitch at them for. With the time difference, even with the shorter flight duration the Kingsman jet offered, it was still basically morning when they got there. Merlin and Harry were both waiting. Merlin was there to walk them through the process of checking in the equipment they’d used. Harry was there to unashamedly sweep her into a welcome home kiss. She beamed at him, remembered the new stuff she’d bought, blushed at him, then did her best to hurry through the process with Merlin.

Arthur interrupted them on their way out. He wore a smile that looked like his cheeks had been stapled in that position and had a pair of eyes that wouldn’t have look out of place in a dead fish. “Well then, it seems Kingsman is in the rare position of welcoming two new agents. Welcome, Tristan.” He stepped forward and pinned a small button in Roxy’s lapel. Then he turned to Eggsy. “And Gareth.” He pinned a button on her, and she’d half expected him to stab her with it. From the look on his face, he more than half wanted to. She and Roxy nodded their heads and thanked him. Without another word, he turned on his heal and left.

Bemused, Eggsy turned to Harry. “Is that it?”

“Not usually,” Harry growled. “It’s supposed to be rather more formal, with as many of gathered as possible so you can meet your peers. There is also typically a toast.” He glared after the retreating Arthur, a look echoed by Percival and James. Merlin remained stone-faced, but Eggsy thought he was fairly unhappy himself. As the one that worked most directly the most often with Arthur, she couldn’t blame him for keeping his displeasure with the man under wraps. Harry took her hand. “We’ll arrange something more proper shortly, I assure you.”

“You may depend upon it,” Merlin rumbled.

“Hidebound old coot,” Percival grumbled.

“Oh well, we got better things t’do than that right now anyway. We’ve just a few days until Christmas, yeah? We’ll make it a proper do.”

“Damned right we will,” Roxy said a little heatedly. “He most certainly does not get to ruin our holiday just because his twat of a grandson couldn’t hack it and we could.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not getting this posted yesterday. I've managed to come down with a terribly unpleasant cold. So please, if you see more errors than usual, feel free to give me a head's up. I always think I'm more alert than I actually am when on cold medicine. One more smallish chapter after this to finish it up, although I have a couple scenes in my head that may or may not turn into something bigger. At the least, though, I plan to get them down as side/future ficlets. I still want to get rid of Chester King, that wrinkled, spotty old prick.

Home again, Eggsy dropped all her bags and crouched to say hello to a snorting, wiggling JB. “Who’s mummy’s good boy? Yes you are! Mummy missed your smushy face.” She laughed as JB danced on her lap, licking her face enthusiastically.

“I’ll just put your shopping away for then, shall I?” Harry said dryly.

Eggsy popped up and snagged the bags. “Nope, I got it! Wouldn’t say no to a bit of tea, though.” She beamed down at JB. “Come help mummy put her things away, yeah? My handsome boy,” she cooed. She trotted upstairs with JB on her heels and went into her room. She hung up the dress in its garment bag first, then dumped out the lacy underthings in a pile. After poking her head around the corner to make sure Harry was puttering in the kitchen, she picked out a matching set and changed her clothes, lightening fast.

When she padded back down the stairs, she could feel the soft lace shifting against her nipples. Harry was just pouring the boiling water in the cup when she got to the kitchen. She walked up and slid her arms around him from behind. “Mm, hi.” She dropped a little kiss between his shoulder blades.

Harry twisted a bit to bring her around to his side. “Are you feeling quite alright, darling? You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine. Happy to be home.”

“You did remarkably well on your first mission,” Harry told her. “We do usually attempt to avoid killing where possible, but you handled yourself perfectly.”

“It helped that Percival was there, I think. I feel like James might have tried to show off a bit, but Percival was all business.”

“You did seem to get on quite well with him. Even at the gala, you moved like you’d been working with him for a long time.” There was an odd note in his voice that made her lean back to see his face. His expression was carefully bland. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m simply saying, he might make a good partner for you, when your year is up. Not that we work in pairs often, but it would be an option for you.”

“I…would rather work with you, when that happens. If possible.” She swallowed. “Harry, what is this?”

“It’s nothing, dearest. I simply want you to be aware of your options, that’s all.”

“It doesn’t feel like all. What brought this on?”

Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s nothing, Eggsy. As I said, you have options. You needn’t feel obligated to work with me for any reason. Not to mention he’s a bit younger, so it would look less out of place if you were to partner him for missions, as you did at the gala.”

“Just on missions, or you thinkin’ I might feel obligated outside of missions, too?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No. But it sounded like it. Harry, was you jealous over me’n Percival pretending we was a couple for the gala?” His cheeks heated slightly, which was answer enough. For a moment, she was blindingly angry – what had she ever done to make him doubt her? She’d only partnered with Percival for the mission because both him and Roxy had felt too awkward to pull it off! And Eggsy had told him she loved him, she’d bawled all over him thanks to the mere thought of having lost him before she got to meet him. Then his words caught up to her: ‘he’s a bit younger’ and she remembered him calling himself an ‘old fool’. As much as she’d agonized over approaching him, wondering if he could ever really want someone so young, barely educated, and unsophisticated like her, maybe he’d been worrying over her wanting someone twenty years her senior.

“Harry,” she said firmly. “I told you before, ain’t no one ever made me feel like you do. Ain’t no one else ever gonna, either. An’ yeah, I mighta had to play it up an’ climb all over him, an’ I might have to climb all over other people in the future. But you’s **it** for me, yeah? I know I can walk away any time. _I don’t want to_. Stop throwin’ options at me I don’t want!” She jabbed him in the chest. “What happened to my possessive bastard? You changed your mind an’ just don’t know how to tell me?”

“What? No!” He pulled her close to kiss her, desperate, as his hand kneaded her hips. Eventually their lips parted and he pressed little clinging kisses to her face and over her hair. “I’m sorry, darling,” he sighed into her hair. “I supposed I simply – well. I was jealous, yes. Of more than simply your dancing with Thomas. There were a lot of firsts that I wanted to share with you that I simply cannot, thanks to not being your sponsor. And I admit, I had rather hoped that I’d get more kisses than JB when we got home, rather than getting to make you tea.”

“Oh Harry.” She slid her hands beneath his jacket and pushed it down off his shoulders.

“If you’re not in the mood,” he said a little stiffly, keeping his arms around her to keep his jacket on.

“Do you want t’know why I ran upstairs an’ wouldn’t let you help put away my shopping?”

“Why?”

“Roxy an’ I went shoppin’. She taught me loads about all the fussy bits of high end women’s clothing, ‘cause apparently when you’s fancy, cotton knickers ain’t enough. I mighta gone a bit overboard.” She peered up at him from under her lashes. “Do you wanna see what I bought while I was thinkin’ o’ you, an’ thinkin’ ‘bout what your reaction might be?” She held up her arms in a clear invitation for him to remove her plain cotton t-shirt.

Eyes darkening a bit, Harry slid his fingers under the hem and started a slow slide up. His hands paused when they reached her breasts, thumbs swiping lightly over the delicate lace and her pointed nipples. He licked his lips and swept the shirt up and off in a swift move. “Darling,” he groaned, tracing the scalloped edging with light fingertips. It seemed to take a bit of effort for him to raise his gaze to meet hers. “You do know that you’re beautiful no matter what you wear. You needn’t wear things you don’t like to please me.”

“Who said I didn’t like ‘em? Love, I got a heap of other surprises up on the bed in m’old room. Just ‘cause I can kick arse seven ways from Sunday don’t mean I gotta keep dressing like a bloke. Only did that ‘cause of Dean, yeah? Now I _can_ , I’m gonna, an’ I get the bonus of makin’ you make that face.”

“And what face would that be?”

“The face like you’s gonna eat me.”

“Accurate face, then.” He slid slowly to his knees, kissing his way down her body, until he could undo the snap of her jeans with his teeth.

Eggsy braced herself against the counter and held on for the ride.

The tea had turned into frigid sludge by the time they made a second attempt at it. As she was getting the kettle on and Harry was poking about for something to make for brunch, her old mobile chimed from where Harry had kept it charged on the counter while she’d been gone. Eggsy picked it up and grinned to see the text from her mother. “Mum wants me over for dinner!” she said, delighted. “To her new flat, with real food. Did we have reservations for tonight? I know you said you was gonna take me out sometime after the mission.”

“Not until after Christmas,” Harry assured her. “I rather thought you might prefer the time to get ready for the holiday. You seemed to enjoy it last year.”

“Yeah, an’ it’s gonna be even better this year, with mum well.” She shot him a dirty smile. “An’ I’m addin’ mistletoe to the decorations this year.”

“That should prove interesting. Whose kiss to you hope to capture?”

“Not for us,” she promised. “Well, not that I won’t kiss the hell out o’ you whenever we’d like. I wanna see if I can prove a hunch with Roxy an’ Merlin. There was a coupla looks while we was in trainin’ that made me wonder.”

“Matchmaking, Eggsy? Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I ain’t matchmakin’! I’m just – putting them in a social situation where they can interact and start to get to know each other outside of the bounds of work. If there’s a spark, great. If not, that’s fine too,” she said as she sent a quick reply back to her mum.

Harry simply gave her an amused look and went back to fixing them food.

After a relaxing afternoon spent largely sprawled all over Harry, Eggsy caught a cab to her mother’s flat. Her mum answered the door, eyes bright, hair shiny and done up in a simple twist, and a smile so wide it was a wonder her face didn’t split. “My girl!” Michelle tugged her into a fierce hug, rocking back and forth slightly. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Eggsy. I’m so glad you’re finally done with the job trainin’ – I was worryin’ we’d have to postpone Christmas!”

“Not this year, at least. How are you, mum, really? We never got to talk very long.”

“I’m good, babes. Really good,” Michelle promised, finally pulling her in far enough that she could close the door. “The job is fantastic, everyone is so great at the office.” She babbled on as she showed Eggsy around. The flat wasn’t large, just a one bedroom, but it wasn’t on the estates, and it was clean and well kept. There wasn’t much furniture, but then, there didn’t need to be. A sofa in the living room and a small table in the kitchen were the important bits, and Michelle kept them clean and free of clutter with obvious pride. She’d fixed a simple casserole for dinner and regaled Eggsy with stories of her office mates that had Eggsy laughing, almost choking on a bite at one point. She finally wound down a bit over chocolate cake and coffee, and fixed Eggsy with a serious look. “So what about you? Tell me about your job. You went on a work trip with James?”

“Yeah, mum. Finished the official trainin’ an’ all, an’ now I get a sort of apprenticeship with James for the next year. Might mean more travel while James is teachin’ me the ins an’ outs of clients.”

Michelle bit her lip, a flash of worry in her gaze. “That’s good, babes. An’ you like it?”

“I love it,” Eggsy said firmly. They both knew they weren’t talking about tailoring, but this was the closest they could get to discussing what her job really was. “James is teachin’ me a lot, an’ I’ve plenty of other coworkers lookin’ out for me as well.” She thought of Harry and smiled, sipping her coffee and picturing working with Harry in the future as she had James and Percival.

“Oh, I know that look. Who is he?”

“Mum! What look, there was no –“ Eggsy shut her mouth with a click in the face of her mother’s knowing gaze. “Oh, alright. There’s someone. Bit worried ‘bout your reaction, t’be honest. Bit complicated, yeah?”

“Oh god, he ain’t married, is he?”

“No! God, mum, no, nothing like that. He’s just – older. Not like ancient, but.”

“How old?”

“Turned 42 this year.”

“Eggsy.” Michelle stared at her. “Eggsy, he’s old enough to be your dad.”

“I know. So what? I love him,” she said simply. “I really love him. He works with me’n James. Actually – knew dad.”

Michelle’s face creased. “Bit weird, innit? Datin’ someone your dad knew?”

“Not really. Maybe…I dunno. Maybe if I remembered dad better, maybe it would be. But. He helped us, more than he needed to. An’ he put me up while I was finishing school an’ workin’ at the pub an’ all, an’ every step of the way he was just. Mum, he believed in me. Never had a doubt about anything I wanted t’do. An’ he kept on believin’ in me all through my job trainin’. Nothing happened til just recent but we’s together, an’ it ain’t endin’ any time soon.” She arched her eyebrow. “Besides, you’re one to talk, aintcha?”

Michelle flushed a bit. “Babes, I dunno what you’re –“

“James,” Eggsy cut it. “You’s ain’t subtle, y’know.” She reached forward to take her mother’s hand when the blush turned pale. “Mum, it’s okay. You deserve to be happy, yeah? An’ dad – I can’t think dad would mind. James is a good guy. You deserve a good guy. James is never gonna fuck you about, he ain’t never gonna hurt you or run you down or nothin’. If  he’s who you want that’s a _good_ thing, mum. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Eggsy. But it’s a bit different, ain’t it? I mean, James is around my age. It might not seem like it right now, but it’ll make a difference in the long run, won’t it? You’re at different stages of your lives, right. An’ even if you don’t think so, you was in a vulnerable position.”

“Maybe for the first year. I weren’t living with him most of this last year. Didn’t see him near as much as I woulda liked. If my feelings were gonna fade, they woulda done by now. Instead, they’s stronger than ever.”

Michelle sighed, fiddling with her coffee cup. “Eggsy, I just can’t –“

“Can’t what, mum?” Eggsy asked, a little sharpness entering her tone.

“Can’t approve. You’s so young, hardly more than a child –“

Eggsy held up her hand, cutting her mother off. “Mum. Don’t you fuckin’ dare. We’s always been honest, yeah? Well, I’m being honest with you. This isn’t changin’. I love him. I don’t want things hard between us, but I won’t have you sayin’ shit like that about him. Or me. I ain’t been a child for a long fuckin’ time. Grew up real fast, didn’t I? Dean didn’t give me much choice. I ain’t sayin’ that to hurt you, or make you feel guilty,” she added quickly. “We already had this talk, an’ I ain’t changed my opinion on that. Dean weren’t your fault, Dean was all on Dean for being a shitbag who lied and slithered his way in. But fact is, I had to grow up really fuckin’ quick. I’m a lot better at readin’ people these days, and fuckin’ worlds better at defending myself. Harry loves me. He respects me. He don’t control or manipulate me. And he **makes me happy**. I need you to understand that. I need you to at least **try**.”

Michelle looked down, swallowing several times. “I do want you happy, Eggsy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for my girl. I just – he’s so much older. And after everythin’ we been through, after all I couldn’t protect you from, I’m just afraid that you’ve latched onto someone who _could_.”

“He never made a move. I did. And I did it when I was trained, when I had my job. I make as much money as he does, I don’t need him to support me. My job don’t depend on him.” Michelle didn’t look the slightest bit reassured. “I could say the same about James,” she pointed out, trying a different tack. “I mean, you was vulnerable when you met him. Got your treatment cause of him – and Harry,” she added pointedly. “James was seeing you all that time while you was recovering, be easy, wouldn’t it, for you to latch onto such a nice, caring man, so different from Dean. But it weren’t like that, was it. Weren’t sleezy, an’ you know sleezy now, same as me. Nothing happened, he didn’t make a move til you was out an’ standin’ on your own.”

Michelle nodded slowly. “Yeah. Actually – I talked to my therapist about that a lot,” she admitted. “Was so worried I was makin’ another mistake. We didn’t do anything til I was sure. He didn’t pressure me or anythin’.” She reached out and clasped Eggsy’s hand. “I’m always gonna worry for my girl, Eggsy. I can’t help it. Even if it lasts, he’ll still leave you first, an’ that hurts, Eggsy. It hurts so much. I don’t want you to feel that.”

“I could get hit by a lorry on m’way home tonight, mum. Ain’t no guarantees in life. Which is all the more reason to take happiness, not run from it. Hell, mum, five _months_ with him’d be worth more to me than five decades with anyone else.”

“Do you really have that much in common though?” Michelle screwed her face up. “Can’t imagine datin’ someone two decades older’n me – what would we even talk about!”

Eggsy laughed. “We got plenty, mum. Shite movies, dancin’, he even goes free runnin’ with me! An’ y’know, never could let myself really be – girly, yeah? Baggy shirts an’ hoodies, jeans an’ never skirts. An’ he’s happy with that, whatever I want, but he’s also happy for me explore the girly stuff too.” Her cheeks heated, thinking of earlier that day and Harry’s favorable reaction to her new underthings. “All he wants is me happy, same as me for him. Please try to be okay with this. It ain’t changin’.”

“Alright. Alright, babes. But if he hurts you,” she added, suddenly fierce, “I swear, I don’ care what he actually does for a livin’, I will _end_ him. He best spend every fuckin’ day appreciatin’ you, or he’ll answer to me. Swear down.”

“I said the same thing to James.” She relaxed, sharing a grin with her mother. “We Unwins ain’t ones t’be messed about.”

“Too fuckin’ right, babes.” With a final squeeze, Michelle released her hand. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“You kind of already did. He was the one that gave us the medal.”

Michelle scrunched her face up for a few seconds, then shook her head. “Don’t remember that much from that night. Mostly just a suit an’ a posh accent. I was so upset.”

“Me neither, really. Lucky I remembered the code phrase, really, ‘cept I spent an awful lot of time repeatin’ it myself when I was a kid. ‘Bout the only thing I do remember from that night.”

“An’ he didn’t find it weird, though, considerin?”

“Why would he? I mean, he spent all of like ten minutes, I bet, most of it talkin’ to you.”

“I suppose.” Michelle sipped her coffee and grimaced. “It’s gone cold. Let me freshen it for you.” She got up to get them both hot refills to finish their cake with. “Now let’s talk about somethin’ fun. You been shoppin’ without me?”

Eggsy grinned. “Mum, you wouldn’t believe what rich folk spend on knickers. Went with a workmate, Roxy – you’ll meet her at Christmas. She’s posh as they come, but not a snob. You an’ me gotta go sometime soon, it’s ridiculous what some’ll charge for a scrap of lace!”

Michelle’s eyes gleamed. “I do love shoppin’. An’ it’s worth it, the reaction you can get from a bit of frill.” Eggsy blushed a bit again and her mum laughed. “See you already found that out!”

“You let James see _your_ ‘frill’ yet?”

“Guinevere! What a thing to ask your mum!” Michelle gasped in mock outrage. She threw a dishtowel at Eggsy’s face as Eggsy laughed. “For your information, no. We been takin’ it slow, ain’t we.”

“Ooh, lovely! Then we’s really gotta go shoppin’ soon. Get you a bit o’ something extra nice for when he’s earned a peek.”

“You’re terrible, Eggsy. An absolute menace.”

“Y’know, I do believe he’s said the same fuckin’ thing.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet wrap up. Whew! This was never supposed to get this long! I hope everyone enjoyed it! Thanks for all the kudos and comments, they really made me smile. Now I'm going to go cuddle some cold medicine and cats, in that order.

Christmas morning dawned not with the leisurely sex Harry had been half hoping/half planning for but with the doorbell ringing at 6 AM sharp, which had set JB to yapping his little head off. Amidst the racket, Eggsy’s mobile had dinged with an incoming text. Harry had rolled out of bed and palmed his gun by the time Eggsy sat up to read it and he’d paused at her exasperated groan.

“It’s mum! Fuckin’ hell, we didn’t need t’be up for another hour yet.” She rolled out of bed and snagged Harry’s robe on her way to the door. She paused in the doorway and looked back at him, a mournful look on her face as her eyes swept over his nude frame. “Just so’s y’know, you’s standin’ there naked with a gun is one o’ the hottest things I ever seen.” Then she stomped out of the room and clomped down the stairs while Harry remained behind to mourn the interruption of his plans.

He debated with himself briefly over meeting his lover’s mother for the second time ever in pajamas versus taking the time to shower and dress first. The fact that he had last night’s sex sweat dried to his skin decided it for him – one did not meet the person who was essentially one’s mother in law reeking of stale sweat, after all. He compensated by making it a fast shower and left his hair to dry in its naturally curly state. Merlin and James would likely take the piss for ages over it, but speed combined with Eggsy preference for the curls made that a small price to pay.

When he padded downstairs, he found both women in the kitchen fighting over the kettle.

“I woke you’s up, Eggsy, least I can do is make the tea!” Michelle said, tugging at the kettle.

“It’s my bloody home, mum, yeah? Let me make it!” Eggsy said with the glare that said she wasn’t truly angry yet, but it was a fine line that she was teetering on the edge of.

“Good morning, ladies,” he interrupted. He held out his hand to Michelle. “Mrs. Unwin, a pleasure to see you again. Harry Hart.”

“Mr. Hart.” Michelle relinquished her hold on the kettle to shake his hand, then glared when she realized her daughter was filling it.

“Harry, please,” he offered. Eggsy had mentioned that her mother’d had concerns about not just the age difference but his prior relationship with Lee. Though she’d apparently agreed to not interfere and try to get along, he was willing to bet that her worries were nowhere near assuaged.

Michelle turned back automatically, as he’d hoped. “Oh, well thank you. And it’s Michelle, yeah? Reckon it’s only proper, seeing as I invaded apparently too early. Though really, Eggsy, if you’s makin’ a turkey big enough for the lot that’s comin’, it should go on soon!”

“I know how to cook a bloody turkey, mum! Fucks sake,” Eggsy grumbled. She pulled out three mugs, thunking them on the counter with a bit more force than needed. Harry walked up behind her and bent to kiss the side of her neck, a brief, chaste peck that nonetheless relaxed the tension from her shoulders.

“I’ll make the tea, darling. Why don’t you go get dressed, hmm?” he murmured, very aware of the gaze burning holes in his back.

“Yeah, alright.” She twisted her head for a proper kiss, then stepped around him to go back upstairs. Not before shaking her finger at her mother, however. “You leave my bloody turkey alone, mum. Put it on now, an’ it’ll be dry as toast by the time we eat! You can give me a hand with the stuffing when I get back.”

“Yes, dear,” Michelle said, with a complete lack of meekness. Eggsy gave her a suspicious look but left, grumbling the whole way. Harry just leaned against the counter and met her gaze evenly, waiting. Michelle turned the full force of that gaze on him. Though her eyes were blue, they held the same intensity that her daughter’s did. “Mr. Hart,” she began when she felt her daughter was out of ear shot. “I can’t say I remember you much. Eggsy says you knew Lee, that you was the one that delivered the news and that medal. I don’t know much about your line o’ work, but I know it’s dangerous, an’ that my daughter is in the same job. I seen the way she moves, an’ I know she’s tough as they come, but I swear to god an’ on Lee’s memory, if you’s playin’ her about, if you’s just using her to have a pretty young thing hangin’ offa you like some old men like, I will gut you like a fuckin’ fish an’ leave your sorry arse for the crows. My girl has had enough pain, an’ that’s mostly my fault whatever she says. I know that. I din’t do enough to protect her when she was younger, but I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again. You get me?”

“I get you. I love that young woman more than life, Michelle. Playing her about is the last thing I would ever do,” he promised.

She nodded once, brisk. “Then we got no problem. That tea about ready?”

Lips quirking, he turned to assemble the mugs as the kettle reach boiling. He fetched out the milk and sugar, gesturing to Michelle to help herself as he made his and Eggsy’s. Michelle watched him, smiling a bit when she saw him adding the right amount of each to Eggsy’s mug. “I expected some fancy bone china teacups or somethin’,” she observed, cradling the sturdy ceramic in her hands.

“I do have some, if you’d prefer. I typically only pull them out for formal occasions, rather than family holidays.”

“And we’re family now?”

“We both love Eggsy, do we not? That makes us family of a kind, I think.”

“You’re not wrong there. This is fine,” she dismissed. “I’d be worried ‘bout crackin’ some fancy bit o’ porcelain.”

“Eggsy said much the same, when she first came to stay.”

“I bet she did.”

“May I offer you some breakfast? I generally make the morning meal for us, it would be no trouble to make extra,” he offered as he moved to the fridge.

“Oh, no need to bother. Had a bite before I came over. Oh! I made cookies, left ‘em in the front hall.” Michelle trotted out of the room and returned with three stacked Tupperware containers filled with cookies. “Eggsy’s not one for baking, but it’s not a proper Christmas do without cookies.”

Harry laughed. “She’ll be thrilled. Last year, she forgot about dessert. We ended up with a pie from the bakery, since I can’t bake to save my life,” he told her, whisking a few eggs for a scramble. “It’s been a frustration, as I can cook just fine, and Eggsy is quite good at it. Somehow baking defeats us both.”

“She never could,” Michelle confided. “Even tried the premade cookie dough an’ managed to make somethin’ you could break your teeth on. They weren’t even _burnt_ , they was the right color an’ all, they was just hard as fuckin’ rocks.”

He struggled to contain his laughter but ended up snorting anyway, picturing the puzzled and angry look his darling would have worn. “That must have been frustrating.”

“She was cussin’ like a sailor. Ain’t tried again since, far as I know.”

“Tried what again?” Eggsy asked, padding into the kitchen. Her damp hair tumbled down her back in loose waves. She wore her favorite jeans and a cheerful red sweater, with her pendant prominently displayed. Bare feet made no sound when she walked up to him, neatly tucking herself under his arm as she snagged her tea.

“Cookies,” Michelle informed her. “Was just tellin’ Harry here ‘bout your adventures in bakin’.”

“Mum! Fucks sake, he don’ need t’know that,” she hissed, giving a glare over his shoulder.

He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her cheek, and didn’t even really try. Eggsy had made it plain that she felt no unease at expressing affection in front of her mother so he was certainly not going to restrain himself. “It’s okay, darling,” he comforted, edge of laughter in his voice. “You’re so wonderfully talented at so many other things. That’s what bakeries are for.”

“Hmmph.” Obviously not terribly mollified, she sipped her tea until breakfast was ready, then sat at the table in her favorite position: facing Harry, with her feet resting on his chair so her currently polished toes were pressed to his thigh.

“Honestly, Eggsy, is that how you’re meant to sit at the table?” Michelle scolded.

Eggsy stuck her tongue out in a childish gesture made more so by the tiny bits of egg clinging to it. “Folks as wake me up an hour before I had t’be don’t get a say.”

“You should have been up already to get the turkey in on time!”

Eggsy rolled her eyes. “Bet you a tenner the turkey comes out just fine at the time I planned.”

“Really, Eggsy, tryin’ to bet against your own mum,” Michelle said, affecting a shocked tone.

“You’s only sayin’ that cause you know I’ll win.”

Michelle sniffed. “An’ t’think, I brought coookies an’ everythin’. Such a brat I raised, I don’t even know.”

Eggsy brightened and scanned the kitchen again. With a happy noise she jumped up to grab one of the containers. “Y’gotta try these, love. Chocolate cherries cookies.” She waved a magnanimous hand. “You’re forgiven for wakin’ us up early.” Michelle just laughed.

Harry finished off his eggs and toast while watching Eggsy make a respectable dent in the cookies. She continued to banter with her mother, voice all but vibrating with happiness. When it was finally time to get the turkey going, she and Michelle both dug in, all but tripping over each other as they wrestled control of the turkey back and forth between them. He offered to help and was treated to stereo looks and firm “No!”s, followed by Eggsy request for a fire. When he returned after getting one started, he found both women dancing around the kitchen to some lively holiday music. Eggsy shot him such a blinding smile of happiness that he felt his heart skip a beat. She had come so far from the sick, half delirious girl that he’d found, and he couldn’t wait to see how far she would continue to go.


End file.
